Dizzy Miss Lizzy
by dudeurfugly
Summary: Financial problems force Jude and Lucy to give their daughter, Lizzy, up for adoption. Years later, Lizzy finds out about her true family and wants to find her way back to them, following a familiar melody remembered from her past. UPDATED!
1. She's Leaving Home

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides Lizzy. All of it belongs to The Beatles. **

**A/N: Hey, everyone! This is my second ATU fic, posted in honor of the release of the DVD on Feb. 5! I don't know about all of you, but I've been waiting anxiously for this movie to come out ever since I saw it…so, naturally, I'm getting my copy tomorrow! Anyway, enough of my excited rant…hope you like the beginnings of my multi-chapter fic. Please review!**

**New York City**

**August 1968**

Jude stared at the raindrops slowly trickling down the windowpane, the water making fresh trails along the grimy glass. The weather was overcast, and there was a certain chill in the air, slightly unusual for the middle of August. The conditions outside only seemed to mirror the emotions everyone was displaying inside the apartment. It was a stark contrast to yesterday, when the sun had been shining and the sky was brilliantly blue.

_Yesterday_, Jude thought bitterly, _all my troubles seemed so far away._

He turned his attention from the depressing weather to the one person who was the center of his and Lucy's world--Elizabeth Julia Feeny, their daughter. With her sweet, innocent sapphire blue eyes, wavy, dark brown hair, and fair skin, she was a wonderful mix of both of her parents. At two-years-old, she was already developing a unique personality, with some of Lucy's and Jude's traits as well. She had her father's smile and mannerisms, and Lucy's free spirit and intellect. She also had the stubbornness of both of them combined, which was somewhat of a force to be reckoned with. However, above all, it was obvious from an early age that Lizzy had a love for music, and even an interest in art. She liked whenever one of the adults sang to her, and she always stood nearby when JoJo played his guitar. As for art, Lizzy would often peer over Jude's shoulder as he worked on a sketch, or inspect his finished works with curiosity.

Jude studied his daughter closely, watching as she pulled on Max's shaggy, golden hair, giggling whenever Max swatted her hand away and pretended to tug on her own dark locks. Her laughter was infectious, even over the hum of JoJo's guitar; Jude closed his eyes briefly, trying to somehow keep the precious sound locked into his mind--he was afraid that he was going to forget it. He opened his eyes again, an icy feeling of sadness filling his chest. Lizzy was his and Lucy's pride and joy, and she was leaving them today. Leaving them to go live in Florida, to be raised by her new adoptive parents.

Margaret and Charles Harrison were Lizzy's adoptive parents. They were a nice couple in their mid thirties who were very financially stable. They could support Lizzy in a way that Lucy and Jude could not. Money was the reason why they had been forced to put their daughter up for adoption. When they married, they barely had enough to get by to support themselves, and once Lizzy came along, Lucy and Jude found themselves struggling even more to make ends meet. Lucy had asked her parents for some assistance, but they hadn't really approved of her marriage to Jude in the first place, so they didn't help out much.

When the subject of adoption came up, Lucy didn't want to even say the word. Before, Lucy had been against having children, claiming that it was completely narcissistic; but once Lizzy was born and she laid eyes on that little girl, she was attached. Lucy couldn't see anyone but herself and Jude raising Lizzy. She didn't want to think about some strange couple bringing up _their_ child. Nonetheless, it was the only alternative they could come up with that would be most beneficial for their daughter. They wanted a couple who would love and support Lizzy, and give her everything that she needed to be successful in life. And Mr. and Mrs. Harrison fit that description.

Jude couldn't bear the thought of his daughter leaving them, much less the fact that Lizzy would no longer carry his name as hers. He probably wouldn't see her again, and that just about broke his heart. He knew it was tearing Lucy up inside; he could hear her distressed sobs coming from their bedroom. She had disappeared behind the door a good hour ago, and Sadie and Prudence had followed her in, trying their best to comfort the brokenhearted mother.

_She won't remember us. _Jude kept thinking. He doubted that Lizzy knew that she was going to be taken away from them, her real family. She was only a toddler. Years from now, she wouldn't be able to recall Jude's drawing's, or Lucy's soft, motherly voice…Max's antics…the sound of JoJo's guitar or Sadie or Prudence singing…

He didn't want her to forget. Jude wanted his daughter to remember where she had come from. He was determined to do something--_anything_--to help her remember someday. Suddenly struck with an idea, Jude got up from his seat.

"You got her, mate?" he asked Max, who looked perfectly content holding his little niece.

"Yeah." Max replied, watching as Jude disappeared into his art studio. He glanced back down at Lizzy, whose eyes had begun to get heavy. Tired, she leaned her head against her uncle's chest, bringing a weak smile to Max's face. He knew this adoption was for her own good, but he didn't want Lizzy to go. Being a Vietnam vet, he was often plagued with the horribly violent memories of what he'd seen in war, and sometimes Lizzy was the only one who could take his mind off that. Without her, he'd have little distraction. Max figured, when it came down to it, they all needed Lizzy here. Sadie wouldn't have Lizzy to sing to, Prudence wouldn't have her to spoil, JoJo wouldn't have her around so he could teach her to play guitar, as he had been planning to do for awhile. Lucy and Jude wouldn't get the chance to see their daughter grow, which was probably the worst part of it.

"I can't believe they're taking you away from us, squirt." Max whispered to a now half-asleep Lizzy. To Max, adoption had been a vague notion, something that he didn't think either his sister or his best friend would go through with. When it became more difficult for the young parents to make things work, the idea turned into reality.

Max pressed a kiss into Lizzy's hair and sat back, letting the toddler curl up against him. JoJo's guitar wept a solemn melody that filled the apartment, expressing his own sadness as he kept glancing out the window for a car carrying Lizzy's future parents. All was silent for awhile, until Lucy emerged from the bedroom, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She laid eyes on her sleeping daughter and immediately burst into fresh tears. Lucy approached Lizzy and Max, kneeling down in front of the chair where they were sitting. She ran her hand through the toddler's chocolate colored tresses; the child stirred, rubbing her eyes. Lizzy looked over at her mother, and although she was just two, she saw how upset she was and instantly showed concern.

"Mom-Mom?" Lizzy asked, while Sadie and Prudence entered the room, attempting to dry their own tears. Listening to Lucy express her pain and sorrow over giving up her only child had taken its toll on them as well. Lizzy held her arms out for Lucy to pick her up, and Lucy did so, holding the toddler close to her body.

"I love you, baby." Lucy sobbed, to her now very confused daughter. They'd tried to explain it a couple of times to Lizzy, but two-year-olds can't really understand the concept of adoption.

"I love you, Mom-Mom." Lizzy answered, just as their was a loud, excited knock on the door. The noise stopped everyone in their tracks; the five adults in the room shared a knowing look. Lucy started for the door, each step filled with dread. She opened the door and found what she had expected: Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, standing with the man who had handled the adoption. She let them in with a quiet "hello", and led them into the living room, where Jude had now joined the others. He was holding Lizzy, swaying back and forth ever so slightly. He was whispering into his daughter's ear; Lucy had a feeling that he was singing to her.

"It's nice to see all of you again," Mrs. Harrison said to the group. Smiling, she turned her attention to Lizzy. "Hi, Lizzy." She waved at the toddler, who shyly buried her face into Jude's neck.

"We know that this must be hard on you," Mr. Harrison stated. "so, we'll let you say your goodbyes." Lucy let out a quiet sob at the mention of the word 'goodbyes' and crossed the room to stand by her husband. Jude passed Lizzy to Sadie, and placed a comforting arm around his wife's shoulder. Sadie whispered something to the toddler, and handed her to Prudence, who gave her a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek before passing her to JoJo. JoJo let Lizzy strum the strings on his guitar, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Max was next to say goodbye to his niece.

"You be good, squirt," he told her. "Try not to forget your Uncle Max, okay?" Max gave his niece a hug, which she returned. Lucy took her daughter after Max, and kissed her cheeks and forehead, as her body shook with sobs.

"I love you, Lizzy. We're doing this for your own good, baby. You'll like these people. I promise." She couldn't exactly find the right words to say goodbye to her child; it hadn't really hit her yet that she was giving her up. Lucy gave the young girl to Jude, who first approached the couple who would be taking his daughter with a rather large envelope in his hand.

"This is for Lizzy," he explained to them, "for when she gets older." Mrs. Harrison nodded, taking the envelope from Jude. He then took his daughter into his arms to say his own goodbye.

"It's killing me to do this, love," he whispered, voice breaking slightly. "But like your mum said, we love you, so don't think for one second that we're doing this because we don't care. We tried _so _hard to make it work, Liz. We really did. This was probably the hardest decision me and your mum had to make, but…these people will give you everything that we couldn't. You'll be happy with them, Lizzy."

With a heavy heart, Jude handed over their child to her new parents. Not much was said as the group of adults gathered Lizzy's belongings and carried them down to the waiting taxi. By the time everything was in the trunk and Lucy was strapping Lizzy's car seat into the back, the toddler had begun to cry. She had gotten the feeling that something was wrong, and finally expressed her anguish over the current situation. She bawled harder as Mrs. Harrison buckled her into the car seat, and she saw that her family was not getting into the car with her. She didn't understand why these strange people were getting in instead. Lizzy didn't respond to Mr. or Mrs. Harrison when they attempted to calm her down; she kept reaching her little arms out to her family. She called desperately to her "Mom-Mom" and "Da-Da" even as the back door to the taxi slammed shut.

Jude, Lucy, Max, Sadie, JoJo, and Prudence stood on the sidewalk, watching forlornly as the taxi drove away, taking their little Lizzy with it. None of them knew how long they stayed out in the rain, but the taxi was long gone by the time they went back inside.


	2. In My Life

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything besides Lizzy...and other characters of my creation. **

**Palm Beach, Florida **

**December, 1985 **

Bright sunlight filtered through the blinds of Mr. Henderson's second floor art studio while his twelfth grade students filed in for his fifth period class. The classroom was now buzzing with conversation, nearly drowning out the record of his favorite rock band playing in the background. It was a pleasant day outside, and since he gave his art classes a lot of freedoms, he decided it would be only right to take advantage of the nice weather. Mr. Henderson crossed the room and quickly turned off the record player as his senior students moved around, gathering their portfolios and art supplies.

"Listen up," he called, standing by the blackboard and commanding their attention, "We're going out to the courtyard today to work." Some of the teens cheered, happy to be let out of the confines of their school, if only for about forty minutes. "Hold off on your latest project for now, sketch whatever you feel like. But I expect to see some sort of work done; if I catch anyone slacking off, this will be the last trip outside. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." the class answered automatically.

"All right," Mr. Henderson replied, "Let's head out."

Mr. Henderson's senior art class dispersed themselves throughout the back courtyard of the school, settling on the lush, green grass under the shade of the trees. Some sat down on the sides of the large water fountain and began sketching out the statue in the center of it, and others situated themselves on benches. The usual cliques formed, working together while chatting about the upcoming Christmas holiday. Mr. Henderson walked back and forth among the students, periodically glancing at their sketch pads to see what progress they'd made and giving them some sort of encouraging comment.

One of his best students was perched atop a huge boulder in the grass, well away from the rest of the group; she usually chose to work alone, so Mr. Henderson had expected this. She was sitting cross-legged, balancing her sketch pad on her lap. She was minding her own business, drawing quietly, totally absorbed in her work. Mr. Henderson approached her, peering over her shoulder at her current sketch. It was abstract; whatever she was feeling poured out onto that page as a medium of expression. She viewed it as freedom. A blank page had no restrictions or limitations or rules, unlike her own life.

The art teacher smiled at the design. There were intricate flowers drawn in the corners of the page--daises interlaced with roses--and measures of music notes flowing beautifully in the center. The shading was excellent, proof of an artist who was very meticulous about her work. In the four years he had taught her, she'd always been a perfectionist, painstakingly making sure every piece of artwork was done to her satisfaction.

"That looks wonderful, Lizzy." he praised. Lizzy Harrison looked up, a bit surprised, tucking a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear. She hadn't known that he had been standing behind her.

"Um, thanks." Lizzy stared down at the page, tilting her head slightly. It wasn't her best work, but then again she was always humble whenever someone gave her a compliment. Maybe because she didn't get them too often. The only people she knew who praised her work was Mr. Henderson and her best friend, Paul.

"You know, I wanted to talk to you about college," he said. Lizzy groaned inwardly. It seemed like everyone wanted to talk to her about college. Her parents were particularly relentless. "Have you given any thought to it?"

"Plenty," Lizzy stated, rolling her sapphire eyes, frustrated. "Unfortunately, what I want and what my parents want are two completely different things."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"Major in art." Lizzy told him, as if it wasn't obvious already.

"It's your choice, Liz. It's your future. You're the one who has to decide."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Try telling my parents that."

"I'd really hate to see talent like yours to go to waste." Mr. Henderson said, taking one last look at her artwork. He left the teenager to once again ponder her future.

Lizzy had filled out five or six applications to some of the best art schools in the country; colleges that she would give anything to attend. However, the Harrisons would never dream of sending their daughter off to be an artist. Of course, they knew she liked drawing and all that, but _God forbid _Lizzy ever take out a sketch pad in front of them. Mrs. Harrison would scold her, telling her it was a waste of time. So, Lizzy took to doing her artwork alone in her room while her parents weren't home, or when she was with Paul.

The fact of the matter was, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison were controlling and overbearing. They told Lizzy what crowd of people to hang out with--they wanted their daughter to be popular, and date sophisticated boys from respectable families. They pressured her to apply to all the Ivy League schools, to become a doctor, or a lawyer, or some other scholarly career that she had absolutely no interest in.

Of course, she told them what they wanted to hear. She lied and said that she was one of the most popular girls in her class (a total understatement), and that her Ivy League applications had already been sent out. In reality, she was a more of a loner, all of the applications they'd given her had been thrown away, and she had secretly applied to _her _dream schools.

Mr. and Mr. Harrison were gullible enough to actually believe all of it. They were convinced that whenever Lizzy went out on the weekends, she was going to parties with rich kids or studying for upcoming tests. Her parents were too busy with their own jobs and social lives to really pay attention. Truthfully, she was spending her time with her best friend, Paul.

To Lizzy, Paul was the sweetest guy she'd known. He'd been there for her since they were about four years old; they'd been inseparable ever since. When she was around her best friend, she could be herself, without having to worry about restrictions or her parents' rules. They could do whatever they wanted. Lizzy could sketch to her heart's content, sing at the top of her lungs to the best classic rock songs, and not be concerned with her parents. In return, Paul was constantly telling Lizzy to do what she wanted, and rebel against her parents for a change. And Lizzy knew that just by hanging out with Paul, she _was_ rebelling.

Neither of Lizzy's parents could find out that she was still hanging around Paul, because they were never very fond of him in the first place. They considered him a "bad influence" on her. He was from a working class family, and was being raised by his mother alone, whereas Lizzy was wealthier because of Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Those details didn't matter to her, but apparently it was an important factor to her parents. Lizzy absolutely hated the way they judged Paul, like he was the scum of the Earth just because he didn't have all the luxuries that they did. Her parents talked about him as if he should be pitied, and Paul didn't see his life as something that someone should show sympathy for. He loved his mother, and he liked living simpler. He always told Lizzy how he didn't really need much.

Lizzy defended Paul on numerous occasions; she couldn't stand by silently while her best friend was picked apart by them. She nearly pulled her hair out every time her parents made some joke about his lack of money. It was one of the ways that her parents managed to agitate her on a daily basis. It had been so much better when she was younger, because she had nothing to argue about. She was a kid--if she had a couple of Barbie dolls and a few Sesame Street tapes, she was a happy camper. Then, Lizzy hit her teenage years and she butted heads with her parents all the time. They put more restrictions on her, and she finally saw how stuck-up they could be. If she could trade places with Paul, she would. She didn't _need_ this lavish lifestyle. As long as Lizzy had her art and music and her best friend, she was perfectly happy.

"The bell's about to ring," Mr. Henderson announced suddenly, tearing the teenager from her thoughts. "Start packing up your stuff. I'll see you all in two weeks. Have a nice holiday, everyone."

Lizzy picked up her sketch pad, tossing her pencil into her backpack before hoisting it onto one shoulder. Art was her last class, so she made her way into the building and up to her locker, both dreading and anticipating Christmas vacation. It was going to be hell spending it with her mom and dad, but hopefully she'd be spending a lot more time with Paul. She weaved her way through the crowd of students eager to hightail it the heck out of there, dodging backpacks and people's elbows. The noise was so loud that she could barely hear her own thoughts.

When Lizzy arrived at the correct hallway, she spotted a familiar guy with shaggy, dirty blond hair standing by her locker. He had her locker door already open, and was leaning against the locker next to it, waiting, picking at a loose thread on his severely frayed jeans. Lizzy approached him, grinning.

"Hey, Miss Lizzy." he greeted, as the young girl dropped her backpack down onto the floor by her feet.

"Hey, Paul." Lizzy answered, punching him playfully in the arm. Paul pretty much towered over her, standing a good seven inches taller. Lizzy began placing her books back into her locker, happy that she had been lucky enough not to receive any homework over the break.

"So, where's the latest masterpiece?" he asked. Paul bent down and grabbed Lizzy's sketch book from her backpack and started flipping through the pages. Once he saw her drawing of the flowers and music notes, he smiled. "Music notes...you draw those a lot. You know, for someone who likes music so much, I've never actually heard you sing."

"Yeah, well, I tend to do that when I'm alone. When no one can hear me."

"Well, what's the point, then?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. What's with these questions, anyway? Since _when_ are you interested in my singing?"

"I was getting to that," he said, handing her the sketch book, which she tucked back into her book bag. "There's a new band playing at this club near my place tonight. You wanna go?"

Lizzy always went to see rock bands with Paul without her parents knowing. Her mother and father, among other things, hated the type of music she listened to. Loud rock music--wailing electric guitar riffs, lots of energy, powerful lyrics and such. She needed a little rebellion to start off her vacation. Hearing a new band seemed like fun. The lie she was going to tell her mom and dad was already forming in her mind.

"Sure," she replied. "What my parents don't know won't hurt them, right?"

Paul smirked mischievously. "Exactly."

Lizzy picked up her backpack and slammed her locker door shut before she and Paul started down the hallway. Things had quieted down quite a bit since Lizzy had entered the school after art class; many of the students had cleared out.

"So…what're you doing now?" Paul asked once he and his best friend stepped outside onto the front lawn of the school, where some of the students were sitting enjoying the warm sun. Lizzy shrugged, adjusting her backpack slightly.

"Not much," she said. "My parents won't be home for a bit, so I'll probably just sketch or something…"

"I was thinking about the beach," Paul suggested, "but if you're gonna play the whole 'lonely artist' card and sit home on a day like this, that's fine by me."

"The beach sounds good." Lizzy suddenly agreed, eyes lighting up with interest.

"Great," Paul replied, "'Cause that's kinda the answer I was looking for."

------------------------------------

Lizzy sat on the hot sand, jeans rolled up to her knees, worn Converse sneakers tossed behind her. She was seated on the shore near the edge of the water, toes digging into the dampened sand. The waves rolled in and out, soaking her legs each time. She welcomed the cool water, feeling relaxed, as she always did when she and Paul spent afternoons on the beach. Paul kicked off his sneakers and peeled his shirt off, running into the surf eagerly with his shorts still on. Lizzy laughed, watching as Paul dove under the water and surfaced moments later.

"C'mon!" Paul yelled, running back to her. He kicked some water her way, causing Lizzy to throw up her hands in order to protect her face. "Get up!" The teenage girl shook her head in protest, squishing her toes deeper into the moist sand. All of a sudden, a rather large wave swept the shore, soaking Lizzy's jeans and spraying her in the face. Paul started laughing like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen, while his friend gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "Well, _now_ you have no choice." he pointed out. Reluctantly, Lizzy let Paul pull her to her feet.

She kicked water in Paul's direction, and Paul kicked water back; soon, they were chasing each other back and forth in the shallow water, getting completely drenched. At one point, Lizzy jumped on Paul's back once they were farther out, trying to bring him down. The plan backfired, and Lizzy slipped off, landing with a particularly ungraceful plop into the water.

Once the two of them were tired out, they laid down on the sand, letting their clothes dry off somewhat. Resting there under the warm sun brought a grin to Lizzy's face. She felt at peace, almost able to fall asleep…until she remembered that she had to get home. She sat up sharply, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. Noticing Lizzy's sudden movement, Paul opened his eyes; he was half-asleep, drunk from the effects of the sunlight.

"Wha' is it?" he asked, as Lizzy got up and began pulling her shoes on.

"Gotta go," she replied. "My mom's probably already home from work. And I'm _soaked_…ugh…"

"Who cares?"

"My mother," Lizzy answered dryly, "_that's_ who cares."

Paul propped himself up on one elbow. "You're absolutely sure that you can't stay just a _little_ longer?"

"I'm sorry, Paul," she said, making her way over to where they had stowed their bikes. "I'll see you later!"

The seventeen-year-old maneuvered her way to her house, pedaling fast and hard, hoping that her clothes would dry some more before she got home. Her mother was going to scold her for being all wet, and not having enough common sense to bring a bathing suit. Lizzy could tell her the truth--that it had been spontaneous--but that would lead to her telling her mom that she had been hanging out with Paul. Which would, in turn, lead to a whole lecture about how much of a bad influence he was, introducing Lizzy to loud rock music and scruffy looking clothes. And such rebellious things as swimming with your clothes on, which wasn't that big of a deal anyway.

Lizzy trudged up the front steps of her beautiful, spacious house, groaning. Throwing her backpack over one shoulder, she turned the door handle and stepped inside. She would've made it safely upstairs to her bedroom if her mother hadn't been lurking in the living room, waiting for her arrival.

"Elizabeth," she said tersely, using Lizzy's full name, which was _not_ a very good sign, "Why on earth are you all wet?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes and turned around. "I went to the beach." she replied in a 'no duh' sort of tone. To the teenager's surprise, her mother didn't question it any further. She was about to retreat up to her room when Mrs. Harrison called her again.

"Something came in the mail for you today," she stated, producing an envelope. A lump immediately formed in Lizzy's throat--this wasn't good. By the looks of it, the envelope was very official-looking, which meant that it had most likely come from a college. And it wasn't a college that her parents had pressured her to apply to. Mrs. Harrison scrutinized the piece of mail, glaring it with a certain look of disproval. "The School of Visual Arts in Manhattan, New York. Sound familiar? Funny…I don't remember you filling out an application for this college. Care to explain yourself?"

Mrs. Harrison handed the letter over to Lizzy, who only stared at it. She couldn't help but smile inside. The School of Visual Arts was one of the nation's leading art schools, and it was her first choice college. She had sent in an application and a portfolio of some of her work a few months ago. Of course, she didn't answer her mother's question.

"Fine," Mrs. Harrison said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We'll discuss it later." Eagerly, the teenager ran up the stairs, ignoring her mom's last shout of, "But you're not off the hook, missy!". Lizzy dashed into her bedroom, flinging her backpack onto the floor. She sunk down onto the bed, holding the letter in her now shaking hands. She wanted to open it, but on the other hand, she was afraid. If she was rejected, Lizzy would be heartbroken. If she was accepted, she didn't know how she'd get herself enrolled into the school, what with her parents' controlling ways. That envelope held more than a letter--it was Lizzy's future.

With trembling hands, Lizzy tore it open, pulling the folded pieces of paper out. There was more than one sheet of paper, which was usually a good sign. She unfolded the first one, which she guessed to be _the_ letter. Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, Lizzy read it.

_Miss Elizabeth Harrison,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the School of Visual Arts for the 1986 fall semester…_

Everything else after that didn't matter. Excitedly, Lizzy jumped up to a standing position on the bed, re-reading the letter over again to be sure that it was really happening.

"Holy shit," Lizzy said aloud, unable to contain her enthusiasm, "I got in!" She wanted to pick up the phone and tell Paul the great news, but decided it would be even better to tell him tonight after the concert. Dropping back down onto her bed, Lizzy stared at the paper, overjoyed. She _was_ going to that school, no matter what her parents said.


	3. Slow Down

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. **

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! It's always nice to get positive feedback! **

"How was your day, Elizabeth?" Mr. Harrison asked later that evening as he, Mrs. Harrison, and Lizzy sat at the kitchen table eating dinner. The meal had been considerably silent for quite some time, with Mrs. Harrison shooting odd looks in her daughter's direction while the seventeen-year-old stared off into space. Lizzy hesitated, opting to rearrange the food that had been piled onto her plate. She weighed her options, knowing that she wouldn't be able to tell him about the college without starting an argument.

"Good." she muttered, not finding the food all that appetizing. The room fell quiet again; the scraping of forks and knives and the clinking of glasses were the only noises heard. Lizzy let her mind wander, thinking of other things…what to wear for the concert…or what the band might be like… She was mentally going through her wardrobe, wondering what was the perfect outfit, when Mrs. Harrison broke the silence, addressing her husband.

"Liz got a letter from a college today." she informed him. _Of course_, she would be the one to bring that up, especially when Lizzy was trying her hardest not to get grounded tonight. She wanted to go to that concert so _very _badly. Frantic, Lizzy looked up to see that her father looked pleased. He had the same grin on his face that he wore whenever he was bragging about Lizzy's grades to one of his co-workers or a relative. It was a grin that Lizzy wished he'd wear when she'd bravely show him a piece of artwork that she had been proud of. She knew that smile would be wiped off his face pretty fast when her mother told him the truth.

"Is that right? Where is it from? Harvard? Columbia?" he asked, nudging Lizzy in the arm, the grin becoming wider. Lizzy swallowed hard, giving him a half-hearted smile.

"The School of Visual Arts," Mrs. Harrison deadpanned. "Apparently, it's some kind of _art _school in New York."

Mr. Harrison's face dropped into some kind of a confused frown. He stared at Lizzy, searching for an answer. "I didn't know you applied there." he said finally, trying to come up with something in response to that. Hopeful, Lizzy suddenly launched into an explanation, desperately seeking to sell her side of it all.

"It's a great school," she replied quickly, azure eyes alive with excitement. "One of the leading art schools in the country. It's right up there with the Ivy League colleges, only I'd be going there to study art, obviously. I read up a lot on SVA, Dad, and it sounds like somewhere I'd like to go."

"Yes, but it's _art_, Elizabeth," Mr. Harrison sighed. "You can't go very far with a career like that."

"Artists get paid thousands of dollars for their work," Lizzy pointed out. "Anyway, I was thinking of becoming an art teacher."

"An art teacher?" he asked. Then, sarcastically, he added, "Yeah, because you'll get paid _a lot _for that."

Lizzy scowled, getting to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table. She was absolutely sick of this, and she was ready to voice her opinion. She had finally gained enough courage to stand up for herself.

"Is that _all_ you care about?" she shouted angrily. "Money? Well, guess what: it's not really important to me. _I don't care_. I love art; you just won't accept that, and I don't get why...but I just don't give a damn anymore. I _am_ going to go to that school, and I _am _going to be an artist, so you're just going to have to deal with it."

With that being said, Lizzy stormed up to her room, tears burning in the corners of her eyes. She didn't let them fall; she wasn't all that upset. For the most part, she was extremely proud of herself for getting that off her chest. Although she was in kind of a funky mood now, Lizzy knew the concert would put her in a better frame of mind later on.

Slamming her bedroom door closed, Lizzy threw open the closet door and began sifting through her clothes, trying to find something to wear. She found her favorite pair of jeans, which, coincidentally, were the ones that her mother totally despised. They were frayed to no end at the bottom, and there was a sizeable hole in the right pant leg. Besides that, they were drawn on with marker, artwork courtesy of both Lizzy and Paul. She also took out a turquoise tunic-looking top and a dark denim jean jacket to wear with the jeans.

Once Lizzy was dressed and pretty much ready, she grabbed a small messenger bag that doubled as a sort of purse, and stuffed her sketchpad and pencils into it. She knew that most likely they'd be going back to Paul's place after the concert, and she never went anywhere without her drawing supplies. Lizzy threw in some money as well just in case, and glanced at the clock before exiting her room. It was six-forty-five. The concert started at seven-thirty; it was a short drive to the apartment building where Paul and his mother lived, and an even shorter ride to the club.

The teenager went downstairs and crept into the kitchen where her parents were talking in hushed voices while they washed the dishes. She spotted her father's car keys on the counter and swiped them quickly.

"I'm going to a friend's house to hang out and watch movies," Lizzy lied smoothly. "I won't be back until late." Lizzy guessed that her parents had said something in reply, but she was well out of earshot to hear them. She slipped out into the warm, night air and got into the driver's seat of her dad's sports car. She blasted her favorite local rock station the entire way to Paul's, trying to get herself hyped up for the concert.

Paul was already waiting outside for her when she pulled up. "You ready?" he asked, sliding into the passenger's seat.

"Hell yeah!" Lizzy answered. Paul turned up the volume a bit louder as the car sped down the street toward the club.

The Glass Onion was a retro club, hosting bands who played sixties and seventies rock music. It was for people eighteen and older; Paul and Lizzy weren't exactly eighteen yet, but one of Paul's cousins worked there and was able to get them in on a regular basis. The club definitely had a psychedelic feel to it, with the combination of the lighting, all kinds of interesting people--some of them stoned out of their minds--and the music. The walls were brightly colored and filled with posters, but you wouldn't be able to tell that by stepping inside. The large room where the band would be performing was darkened, except for the multi-colored lights glaring down from the ceiling, painting the concertgoers in red, blue, green, purple and orange.

As soon as the two teenagers were ushered inside by Paul's cousin, they were swept up in the atmosphere of the club. They felt at ease, having frequented the Glass Onion and all its hippie-esque glory. Neither one of them remembered the sixties, due to the fact that they had only been born near the end of that tumultuous era. However, they still felt an odd connection to the culture of that time.

"Let's go near the stage!" Paul hollered over the noise. He took hold of Lizzy's wrist and dragged her away from where she'd been standing, studying a poster of the band who was playing tonight. _Sadie and the Po' Boys_ it read. On the car ride over, Paul had told Lizzy that he had heard that the band was pretty kick-ass. Paul's cousin had told him that they were a nationally touring group, so that was a big deal. Paul had also been informed that they had a wicked awesome guitar player.

"We're never going to get close, Paul!" Lizzy yelled back, but followed behind him anyway. They somehow managed to weasel their way in near the stage; it was severely crowded, and the little endeavor had been slightly frustrating, but they eventually found a good spot. Paul shot Lizzy an 'I told you so' glance, to which Lizzy rolled her eyes.

There was an overwhelming amount of applause when the band finally took the stage. A tall African American man with somewhat of an afro picked up his guitar, and took in the crowd before him. Paul could just tell that he was the amazing guitarist his cousin had told him about. The front man--or rather, the front woman--stood in near the mike, smiling at the large multitude of people as well.

"Are you guys ready to rock?" The woman Lizzy had perceived as Sadie said into the microphone. Her voice was very laid back and kind of sassy. Again, there was a tremendous roar of applause and screaming; Sadie shared a positive glance with her guitarist, and the drummer counted them off into their first song.

"_Well, come on pretty baby, won't you walk with me?  
Come on, pretty baby, won't you talk with me?  
Come on pretty baby, give me one more chance. _  
_Try to save our romance!  
Slow down, baby, now you're movin' way too fast.  
You gotta gimme little lovin', gimme little lovin', _  
_Ow! if you want our love to last_…"

Sadie's melodic voice was rough and bluesy, and sent everyone moving to the music. Lizzy started dancing beside Paul, all the while trying to figure out why she thought the woman's voice sounded so damn familiar.

The guitarist took the next verse, singing in response to Sadie's words. His voice was smooth and soulful in comparison to hers:

"_Well, I used to walk you home, baby, after school,  
Carry your books home, too.   
But now you got a boyfriend down the street,  
Baby what you're tryin' to do?  
You better slow down!_"

Then, he and Sadie sung together, their chemistry onstage very apparent.

"_Baby, now you're movin' way too fast.  
You gotta gimme little lovin', gimme little lovin',  
Ow! if you want our love to last.  
Well you know that I love you, tell the world I do. _  
_Come on, pretty baby, why can't you be true?_"

" _I need your baby, oh so bad,  
The best little woman I ever had…_"

The guitar player sung, his Stratocaster wailing. Lizzy admired them in a way, because it was quite obvious that they were good at what they did, and had a lot of fun doing it, too. Sadie and her guitar player finished, two amazing voices blending together:

"_Slow down, baby, now you're movin' way too fast.  
You gotta gimme little lovin', gimme little lovin',  
Ow! If you want our love to last._"

The rest of the night was filled with powerful rock songs and dancing. Lizzy and Paul thoroughly enjoyed themselves, even though Lizzy still had that nagging feeling in the back of her mind telling her that she swore she'd heard Sadie's voice before. The guitarists' voice also sounded familiar…

"You think we can meet them?" Lizzy asked her best friend after the show was overConcertgoers had begun to exit the club, and she had noticed that Sadie and her band mates were by the end of the stage shaking peoples' hands and signing autographs.

"We can try," Paul answered, gesturing for her to follow him again. "I don't know how much longer they're gonna stick around." They got in the line, which was fairly long; a lot of drunk guys were in said line, hoping to get a chance to meet the sexy front woman Sadie.

Lizzy stood waiting as patiently as she could, periodically getting on her tip toes to catch a glimpse of the band, hoping they would stay long enough for her to at least say hi. She got really anxious when the guy in front of her was talking to Sadie, and asked for her autograph on his shirt. Once Sadie said a goodbye to him, Lizzy and Paul stepped forward. Lizzy didn't know what to say in the presence of someone who'd just totally rocked the club. She had never met anyone famous before. Nevertheless, the kind smile Sadie was giving her made her feel at ease.

Lizzy stuck out her hand for her to shake, noticing that Paul was now chatting it up with the guitar player. "I just wanted to say that you guys were awesome…your voice is _amazing_, and your guitar player _rocks_."

"Well, thank you, sweet thing," Sadie laughed, observing the teenager with a hint of curiosity. Even in the dim light, the singer could make out her striking, blue eyes, and a grin that reminded her of one of her friends back in New York. Sadie shook the sudden thought from her mind, thinking that it really couldn't be possible--just a strange coincidence. "I'm glad you liked the show. Make sure you come back when we play here again."

"I will." Lizzy replied, nodding. The seventeen-year-old managed to tow Paul away from the guitarist--who's name was JoJo, as Paul later informed her--that he was continuing to talk to about guitar riffs and some other related stuff. Paul ended up receiving one of JoJo's guitar picks, which her friend found particularly thrilling. Lizzy laughed as they walked back to the car, when he told he was going to frame it.

"My house?" Paul questioned once they got into the car.

"Of course."


	4. What You're Doing

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own anything you recognize.**

**A/N: Once again, thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! **

It was close to eleven by the time Lizzy and Paul arrived at Paul's apartment building. They didn't want to disturb Paul's mother, who was sleeping after coming home from an exhausting shift at work. So, they settled for one of their much loved spots, which was the roof of the building. The door that led to the roof was usually locked, but tonight it wasn't, so they waltzed right on up there. Paul had grabbed a blanket from his room, which he spread out on the ground so they wouldn't have to sit on the dirty cement.

Lizzy set her messenger bag down by the blanket, then walked to the opposite side of the roof to see the view of the ocean. The waves were crashing on the shore in the silvery moonlight, the calming sound only a faint whisper. Stars dotted the blue-black sky, so close that they seemed almost within reach. Lizzy stood there, at peace, the light breeze blowing her chocolate brown hair away from her face. The temperature had dropped a little, but it wasn't terribly cold. If had been chilly, she wouldn't have cared; Lizzy loved to be outside in the fresh air. To her, it was an exhilarating freedom.

Heaving a contented sigh, she ambled back to Paul, who was lying down propped up on one elbow, inspecting the pick he'd received from JoJo. Lizzy opened up her messenger bag and fished out her sketchpad and a pencil. Her eyes moved from her best friend to the paper, back and forth, drawing the outlines of what would become a sketch of Paul and his new guitar pick.

"I got an acceptance letter today." she stated suddenly, while trying to get Paul's eyes drawn right.

"Yeah? Where from?" Paul asked, shifting positions. Lizzy groaned.

"Don't _move_." she giggled. Paul, not realizing that she had been drawing him, quickly went back to his original position.

"The School of Visual Arts in Manhattan."

"No kidding! That's your first choice, right?" he inquired.

"Umm-hmm."

"How did the parents take it?"

"Like shit," she mumbled. "I kinda expected it, though. We got into a fight before I left." Lizzy paused from her sketch briefly, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I just _don't _get it, Paul. They don't like my art, they don't like the way I dress…it's like I can't anything _right_." She went back to the drawing, hand moving furiously as she put the finishing touches on. Paul gestured for her to hand it to him, and she did so. It was a quick sketch, but very well done.

"I don't think you quite captured my drop-dead gorgeous looks, but…," Paul joked. Lizzy flipped him off.

Paul noticed the troubled appearance that was still lingering in her eyes at the thought of her parents. "Hey." he said quietly, "They're assholes to not see how talented you are, Lizzy. Don't worry about it. Art's what's important to _you_, and that's all that matters."

Lizzy fidgeted with the pencil that was in her hands. "I know," she said miserably. "But…I…It's weird. It's like the older I get, the farther apart I get from them. Sometimes, I get this feeling that I don't belong with them anymore. We're so different, Paul. They don't understand me."

"Sorry, Liz. My mom can't afford to adopt you."

She smacked him in the arm, lopsided grin on her face. "You're such an idiot."

"Yeah, but I'm your _favorite _idiot."

"Of course you are."

Lizzy laid back, throwing the pencil back into her bag. She stared up at the stars, a comfortable silence settling between them. She knew Paul would always let her vent about her problems, and he listened--and vice versa. That's why they were such great friends; they could basically tell each other everything. Lizzy closed her eyes, and began humming a melody that had been stuck in her head for the past week or so. She didn't know the words to the song, but she had heard the melody had been in her dreams.

"What song is that?" Paul asked.

"Hmm?"

"The song you're humming. What is it?"

"I don't really know…"

"Stupid question, but how do you _not_ know what song you're humming?" he inquired. Lizzy shrugged.

"It's kind of hard to explain."

"Try me."

"Okay, but you're going to think I'm crazy," Lizzy laughed. She sat up, and Paul did so as well. "It's just some melody that I keep hearing in my dreams; it's constantly stuck in my head. It sounds so…familiar, but I can't place it. It's always a guy's voice singing it, too."

"Do you _see_ this person in your dreams?" Paul wanted to know. He was intrigued by this.

"In a way, yeah," she replied. Catching sight of her friend's perplexed expression, she elaborated. "I see him, but not really. I see a lot of different people…things…places. They're always the same; connected, I think. But whatever I see, the images are sort of fuzzy. I don't get the full picture, just bits and pieces. When I see the people, their faces are blurred."

"That _is_ weird," Paul agreed. "And these dreams are reoccurring?"

"For the most part they are," she admitted. "Every few weeks or so. I've had them for a few years."

Paul gawked at her. "_Years_? And you didn't tell me 'til _now_?"

"They didn't bother me until recently," Lizzy replied. "Now I just wanna find out what the hell they're all about."

"Ask your parents."

"That'll go over well. They'd send me to a shrink or something."

"Good point." Paul said. He felt bad that he couldn't do much to help her out.

Lizzy exhaled deeply. "Ugh, I'm sorry, Paul. I'm dumping my problems on you again."

"Don't be sorry," he told her. "It's what friends are for." He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, withdrawing his hand rather fast. "Anyway…the humming was pretty good. You must be a great singer after all." Lizzy shrugged in that 'I don't know' way.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't give me that," Paul continued. "Sing me something."

"No way," Lizzy protested. Paul got to his feet, taking her sketchbook with him. He started walking away. "Paul, what're you doing?" Lizzy picked herself up off the ground, looking at him cautiously. Paul walked to the side of the roof, glanced at the sketchpad, and held it over the edge so it was dangling in midair over the street. Lizzy let out a panicked gasp, staring at him in horror. "Paul! _Don't_!" She crossed the distance between them in a few quick steps, grabbing his arm.

"Sing me something, Miss Lizzy, and I'll return the sketchbook safely back to you." He lowered the book slightly.

"You wouldn't!" she shouted, attempting to seize his arm again.

"I would."

"You bastard," she yelled, half-laughing, "Give it back."

"Why is it so difficult for you to just _sing _for me?"

Lizzy groaned, putting her hands on her hips. Paul was the one being difficult, not her, she thought. She stepped back, taking a deep breath. If he was going to be stubborn, then fine. But there was no way that Lizzy was going to let that sketchbook fall off the building.

"_Look what you're doing, I'm feeling blue and lonely,  
Would it be too much to ask of you,  
What you're doing to me?_"

Lizzy chimed, sending an irritated frown his way. He shook his head, knowing that he had been right all along--Lizzy's voice was beautiful. She took a guarded lunge at him, trying to swipe the book from his hand. Now he was just messing with her.

"_You got me running and there's no fun in it,  
Why should it be so much to ask of you,  
What you're doing to me? _

_I've been waiting here for you,  
Wond'ring what you're gonna do…_"

"I'm not going to do anything…" Paul said sarcastically. He continued dangling the sketchpad in the air nonetheless.

"_Please stop your lying, you've got me crying, boy,  
Why should it be so much to ask of you,  
What you're doing to me?  
What you're doing to me…_"

Lizzy took another jump at her friend, and Paul let her finally have her sketchpad, grinning. She held it against her chest tightly, protectively.

"See? I knew you had it in you." Paul declared smugly, as the two of them laid back down on the soft blanket. Lizzy put her sketchpad into her messenger bag, then placed her hands behind her head. She felt her eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. She let out a yawn and gazed up at the stars shimmering above them. Lizzy heard Paul's voice--most likely talking about the concert--but stopped paying attention to what he was saying. She caught one more glimpse of the night sky before drifting off to sleep.

-----------------------

The very next morning, Lizzy awoke to what sounded like birds chirping loudly. She still had her eyes closed, but noticed how bright it was--wherever she was. At first, she thought the birds were unnaturally close to her window, but she became aware of what she was lying down on, and it wasn't her bed. And she wasn't at home, in her room. Lizzy's eyes opened, and she found herself staring up at the afternoon sky; the sun was directly over her, so it had to be somewhere around noon. She watched the fluffy, white clouds floating against the vivid blue, and suddenly everything came back to her. She had, in fact, fallen asleep on Paul's apartment building roof.

If that wasn't awkward enough, Lizzy discovered that sometime during the period of when she had been asleep, she had rolled over closer to her friend. Her head was most definitely lying on his chest, and somehow his arm had moved so it was resting over her hip, almost protectively. She had never been in such a compromising position with her best friend in all the years that they'd known each other. So, it was _extremely_ awkward. Lizzy sat bolt upright, almost smacking Paul in the face. He sat up, too, disoriented and groggy.

"What time is it?" he slurred, watching through half-closed eyes as she got up.

"I have no idea," Lizzy told him, worry evident in her voice. "Shit…_shit_, I'm in trouble."

Paul managed to get to his feet, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "It'll be fine, Lizzy."

"No. No, it won't," she said, flinging her messenger bag over her head, grabbing the keys to her dad's car. "I have to get my ass home. Thank you for inviting me to the concert, Paul. I had a lot of fun." She called the last part to him while she made her way toward the door.

"Call me later to let me know you're okay." he ordered.

"Will do!"

Lizzy drove home muttering a string of profanities the entire way. She couldn't believe that she had let herself fall asleep there. Her parents would ground her for the remainder of her high school career, she was sure of it. They'd know that she had lied about where she had gone last night. Lizzy wasn't looking forward to the lecture awaiting her.

Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison were pacing in the living room when she stepped inside the house. Mr. Harrison appeared distraught and a bit angry, while Mrs. Harrison looked as if she had been crying. Once she saw Lizzy enter the house, she approached her daughter, more tears streaming down her face.

"Elizabeth, where have you been?" she demanded, clutching her handkerchief.

"We've been worried sick about you," Mr. Harrison added, walking over, grey eyes carrying a hint of fury. "You never called to say when you'd be coming home. We thought something had happened to you."

"I'm sorry," the teenager apologized glumly. "I fell asleep at my friend's house."

"Well, you should've _called_, young lady," Mrs. Harrison snapped. There was a considerable pause before she spoke again. "You were with that boy--Paul--weren't you?"

Lizzy didn't answer right away. She was somewhat afraid. Then, she figured it was best to tell the truth now that the shit was going to hit the fan anyway, so to speak. She had a strong feeling that this argument was going to be worse than all the rest.

"Yeah, I was with him," she said slowly. "I don't know why you care."

"The fact is that you lied to us, Elizabeth," Mr. Harrison stated. "and we can't exactly trust you anymore."

"_Fine_," Lizzy retorted. "I don't give a damn anyway. I just don't see why all of sudden you care about what I'm doing with my life. You don't exactly support me in _other _things I do."

"What are you talking about? Of course we care." Mrs. Harrison said firmly.

"No, you don't! If you did, you wouldn't be so pissed at me for applying to an art school and actually getting _accepted_. I worked my ass off to get in. Other kids' parents would be excited--but _oh no_, not you two." She threw her hands up in frustration. She could feel the burning sensation in her eyes and the back of her throat, but managed to keep the tears inside. "I don't get why you hate me so much."

Oddly, Lizzy discerned that her mother's angry stare turned to one of sympathy and guilt. She shared a weird glance with Lizzy's father, one that left the seventeen-year-old confused. Mrs. Harrison put a hand on her shoulder, eyes glassy with new tears.

"We _don't_ hate you, Elizabeth. Don't say that," she said softly. "You're just different, sweetheart. Ever since you became this opinionated, rebellious, talented teenager, your father and I haven't been able to connect with you. And I know you've probably noticed this." Lizzy nodded in agreement. She had noticed quite a bit.

Mr. Harrison let out a nervous sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Elizabeth, your mother and I were talking after that little fight we had with you yesterday. And…we've decided that we should discuss something with you that we should've a long time ago."

Lizzy looked back and forth from her father to her mother a few times, cerulean eyes filled with perplexity. She didn't know that what her parents were about to tell her would definitely change her world forever…


	5. Gimme Some Truth

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything except my original characters.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!!!**

Uncertain, Lizzy looked at her parents' expressions as they led her to the dining room table to talk. The seventeen-year-old had no clue what they had to tell her that was so important. She hadn't had one of these discussions with them where they actually sat down and had a civil, serious conversation in awhile. Lizzy didn't think that she'd seen her father this stern or her mother so on the edge of some kind of breakdown before. It made her nervous. What the hell was going on? What was it that they should've told her a long time ago?

She took a seat the table across from them, still studying them closely. Her parents kept sharing these odd glances, like they were about to tell her something horrible. For the life of her, Lizzy couldn't even guess what it was. And she wasn't so sure that she wanted to know in the first place.

"Elizabeth," Mr. Harrison said quietly, "There isn't any easy way to tell you this. We know that keeping it from you for this long wasn't the best decision we made."

"What is it?" Lizzy prompted. She wanted to get it over with quick--like ripping off a band aid really fast. Mrs. Harrison stared at Mr. Harrison, reluctant to enlighten Lizzy with the secret she and her husband had been keeping from the teenager for almost half of her life.

"We…" Mrs. Harrison broke off, attempting to control her emotions. "We adopted you, Elizabeth."

Lizzy simply stared at them, the news not processing in her mind. She didn't think she had heard them right. What had they just said? She was _adopted_? Meaning, the two people sitting in front of her were _not_ her real parents? She couldn't find the right words or emotions to even _begin _to react to that.

When Lizzy didn't answer, Mr. Harrison said, "You're so much like them. Your real parents, I mean. We see that now, and you should've known about this much sooner."

Lizzy was gawking at her parents--although, she didn't know if she could call them her parents anymore. "You _lied _to me this whole time?" she managed to say after a few moments.

"It was a mistake," Mrs. Harrison said firmly. "We're so sorry, Elizabeth."

The teenager was on the verge of pulling her hair out. "You know, the two of you are such hypocrites. I lie about being somewhere else, and you're ready to ground me. And now I find out you've been lying to me for my entire life! Ugh! I can't _believe_ this!"

"We're sorry, honey--" Lizzy cut off Mrs. Harrison before she could go any further.

"_Sorry _doesn't exactly make everything all right," The seventeen-year-old snapped. "And please, don't '_honey_' me, either. I'm not your kid…apparently."

That really struck a chord with Mrs. Harrison. She started crying again, and seeing his wife's response, Mr. Harrison tried to offer the distressed teenager an explanation. "Not biologically," he said. "but we _did_ raise you, Elizabeth. We took you in as our own since you were two-years-old. We gave you everything you could possibly want. We gave you a roof over your head, a good education…"

"Yeah, you're wealthy and you _bought_ me everything you thought I'd need," Lizzy replied indignantly, "But money can't buy _love_."

"What are you trying to say?" Mr. Harrison said loudly. What was she implying? Of course they loved her. They had enough sympathy to take her in; wasn't that love? Needless to say, they _did_ try to steer her away from hippie culture she'd been brought up in and had influenced her even now. Mr. Harrison wasn't going to deny that to himself--he just didn't want to admit it aloud to Lizzy.

"Forget it," Lizzy answered, standing. "I don't want to…I just…I can't handle this right now." She plopped back down into her chair and put her face into her hands, attempting to make some sense of it all. Just then, Mrs. Harrison shuffled in--neither Lizzy nor Mr. Harrison had noticed that she had left--carrying a large brown, bulky envelope with the teenager's name written on the front of it. It was surprising that the thing even closed; it was filled to capacity and maybe a little beyond that.

"Your parents gave you up for financial reasons," she said, setting the envelope on the table near Lizzy. "We kept in touch with them for the first three years. And then, for whatever reason, we stopped writing…but they sent small gifts on some of your birthdays, and wrote a few letters addressed to you. I saved everything to give to you some day, and I guess…today's that day."

"Anything you want to know about your family is in there," Mr. Harrison told her. "That is, if you _want_ to know."

Lizzy stared at the package, lifting her head from her hands. Without a word, she took it and disappeared upstairs to her room. Once inside, she dropped her bag onto the floor, tossed the oversized envelope onto her bed, and sat down next to it. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sat in silence for well over fifteen minutes in order to sort out her thoughts. She hadn't had the best day so far. Arguing with her parents, and then discovering that she _wasn't even their child_. She felt like her whole life was a lie. What's worse was that her true parents were alive, and she had never known about them. Never seen a picture, never heard their names…nothing. She didn't remember anything, either.

Trying to deal with the new information was not going so well for Lizzy. It was hard to think that she hadn't been born Elizabeth Julia Harrison. Hell, she probably wasn't even born in the state of Florida. And who knew where her real family lived? Lizzy sighed, glancing at the package addressed to her. She was pretty sure that she wanted to know where she had come from, and who her parents were--or _are_, since, according to Mrs. Harrison, they were still alive. Lizzy picked up the envelope carefully, and was about to tear it open, but she stopped. She wanted Paul with her when she opened it. She needed to tell him, and she needed his emotional support. This was quite an unpredictable twist in her life, and she had to have her best friend by her side.

Her hands were shaking as she picked up the phone on her bedside table and dialed Paul's number. His mother was at work, so Lizzy knew that she wouldn't pick up. However, she silently prayed that her friend would answer. The answering machine clicked on, and Lizzy left a message, still hoping Paul would get to the phone.

"Paul, it's Lizzy," she said, and suddenly found that she could no longer contain her emotions. Her voice began to break as she talked. "Please pick up…I need you. My parents …they told me something, and I just need to come over to your place to get away. _Please_…I'm freaking out over here. I dunno what else to fucking do."

"Liz?" Paul asked, finally picking up the phone. Concern was very evident in his voice. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

"I'll explain later," she said, drying her tears. "Can I…can I come over?"

"Of course," he replied. "Are you okay to drive? I have my mom's car--she took the bus to work. I can come pick you up if you want."

"Sure. Thank you, Paul."

"No problem. See you in a few."

Lizzy hung up, breathing a slight sigh of relief. It was always good to know that Paul was there when she needed him most. Miserably, Lizzy picked herself up off the bed and grabbed her messenger bag. She left the sketchbook in there, and tucked the envelope inside as well, along with a change of clothes and pair of pajamas. She had a feeling that she was going to be staying with Paul for awhile, considering she didn't want to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Sliding her bag over her head, Lizzy went downstairs to wait for Paul.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Harrison inquired.

"Nowhere." Lizzy said stubbornly, turning the door handle. She didn't say another word as she walked out, closing the door in his face.


	6. PS I Love You

**Disclaimer: I don't own it!**

**A/N: This chapter is kind of long, but very important. Enjoy!**

On the way to the his apartment, Paul glanced at Lizzy frequently, worried. She'd sounded extremely upset on the phone, and she hadn't uttered so much as a "hello" to him when she got into the car. She kept her gaze out the window, or down at her hands. She looked lost, and maybe a bit angry. Paul could see every emotion she was feeling in her cobalt blue eyes, which were somewhat bloodshot; obviously, she had been crying. He wondered what or who had made her this troubled. She had said to him that her parents had told her something…

Whatever it was, Paul hoped he could help her. It nearly killed him inside whenever she came running to him in tears, and that had happened quite a few times throughout the years that they had known each other. Lizzy always returned the favor when Paul went to her for advice or to vent about some asshole at school who'd made fun of him. This occasion felt different, though. A bigger problem, that most likely couldn't be solved by ranting over a pint of ice cream, which was usually Lizzy's solution, and the reason why his freezer was almost always stocked with that particular dessert food.

The two teenagers walked up to the apartment; Lizzy ambling in a trance-like state, numb from the new revelation in her life. Paul kept a wary eye on her, staying in step beside his best friend. When the front door was unlocked, Paul pushed it open, flicking the light on. Lizzy followed him in, and collapsed onto the couch, holding her messenger bag tightly to her chest. She was staring ahead as Paul took a seat next to her, a questioning expression on his face.

"Lizzy, tell me what's going on," he said softly. "What did your parents tell you?"

She heaved a sigh, her eyes suddenly watering again with tears. "I'm not their daughter, Paul," she confessed, voice quavering. "They adopted me."

Paul blinked, a wave of shock coming over him. He didn't quite know what to say to that. He wrung his hands awkwardly, struggling to come up with the right words to say. He was just as surprised as she was. "How could they hide it from you for this long?"

"I don't know," she answered, throwing her hands up in the air. "But they had some _nerve _to lie to me for the past fifteen years. They adopted me when I was two, because my parents couldn't support me financially."

"Ironic."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Lizzy agreed. "My parents give me up because they're poor, I'm raised by wealthy people…and _I don't even care _about how much money I have anyway. I'd rather have less money--I'd be happier."

"I'm pretty sure your parents were just doing what they thought was best at the time," Paul reasoned. "I don't think they could foresee that you'd hate living with the Harrisons."

"I know. I'm not mad at my parents. I'm pissed at the people who've been lying to me." Lizzy said, sitting back, resting her head on the back cushion of the shabby couch. She closed her eyes, and let the tears come again, until she was crying quietly. Paul immediately reacted; he was used to comforting his friend. He put an arm around Lizzy, encouraging her to lean her head on his shoulder, which she did.

"_You know it's gonna be…all right._

_You know it's gonna be…all right…_"

Paul reassured her, letting his friend cry on his shoulder.

"Look at this way, Liz. You told me last night that you felt like you didn't belong with them anymore. That you were different, and you couldn't connect with them. You being adopted--it makes a lot of sense. Clearly, you belong somewhere else. And maybe, you can figure out where this 'somewhere else' is."

Once she had composed herself, Lizzy pulled the oversized envelope out of her bag and set it in her lap. "They gave this to me. They said everything in it was from my parents, who they haven't wrote to in like twelve years. Evidently, my family sent me things on my birthdays." She placed the package in between the two of them. "I wanted to open it…but…I figured I needed you with me when I did." Lizzy looked at the envelope intently, biting the nail on her index finger; a nervous habit that her adoptive parents despised.

"Do you want to open it now? We don't have to--you can wait…"

"No," Lizzy said. "I think I can do it now."

The teenager picked up the package, and taking a deep breath, tore the top off. The envelope was practically overflowing with stuff. Lots of papers, a small box, another envelope, and a few other objects. Lizzy got off the couch and seated herself on the floor to spread the items out onto the carpet. Paul got up as well, sitting down across from her. The two of them were more than eager to piece together the young girl's past.

The very first thing that caught Lizzy's eye was a photograph of a young couple, which she guessed to be her parents. She held it in her hands, trying to take every inch of it in. Her mother was a beautiful woman with long, blond hair, fair skin, and striking, azure eyes identical to hers. She had her arm around the waist of a handsome young man whom Lizzy presumed was her father. He was comparatively tall, had brown eyes, and the same chocolate colored hair Lizzy had. Smiling, Lizzy turned the picture over, to see that someone had written on the back.

_Lucy and Jude Feeny circa 1966_

"Lucy and Jude…my parents." Lizzy said, handing the photo to Paul, who examined it.

"Yep, I definitely see the resemblance," he agreed. "You have your mom's eyes and your dad's smile." He put the picture down as Lizzy picked up another one, flipping it over to the back first, where everyone's names were written in the order where they were standing.

_Uncle Max Carrigan, Lucy and Lizzy, Jude, Uncle JoJo, Aunt Sadie, and Aunt Prudence_

_Two weeks after Lizzy's birth_

Lizzy stared at the photo, seeing the young man who shared the same deep blue eyes. According to the message on the back, he was her Uncle Max; to Lizzy, he seemed like the rebellious type. There was just something about him that made him come across that way. She saw herself as an infant, in the arms of her mother, her father's arm wrapped around her shoulder. On the end was her Aunt Prudence, a pretty, Asian young woman with long, black hair and dimples in her cheeks. Lizzy paused when she saw the two people standing in the middle next to Jude.

"_No way_." she said, stunned.

"What?"

"Paul, you're not going to believe this…"

"_What_?" he asked again.

"Sadie and JoJo--from the concert we went to last night--are my relatives. Obviously, they're not blood related, but they're my aunt and uncle." She gave the picture to Paul.

"That's just…_weird_ that we'd end up at their concert like that."

"Maybe it was fate."

"I'll say," he agreed. "What else is there?"

Lizzy scanned the objects laid out in between them. There was an envelope that had been yellowed with age, a pile of papers, a small, white box, and a lumpy looking gift wrapped in brown paper. She debated for a moment, then took the box. She lifted the top off, and pushed back the small piece of tissue paper to discover a gorgeous necklace. Lizzy actually gasped when she laid eyes on it. There was a strawberry pendant about the size of a quarter on a silver chain. The strawberry was in vivid color, and had an L inscribed in the center in silver. Taking it from the box, Lizzy saw a note on a little piece of paper set in the bottom. The handwriting was different than the one that was on the back of the pictures; it was kind of messy and slanted.

_Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Lizzy!_

_Love, Mum and Dad_

"My parents sent this to me last year," Lizzy stated to Paul. She leaned over, giving it to him. "Can you put it on me?"

"Yeah," Paul replied. Lizzy turned around, brushing her hair out of the way. He hooked the clasp together, and she turned back to face him, grinning. "Looks good on you."

"Thanks," she said, picking the pile of papers off the carpet. "Okay…let's see what we have here." Lizzy went through the stack, surprised and delighted at what she found. They were various drawings, all dated and signed by her father. They were _amazing_--some realistic portraits of her family members and even Lizzy herself, others were random abstract drawings that were really creative and well done. Without saying anything, she let Paul have a look at them. She watched him, his smile growing wider as he went through the drawings.

"And now we know where you get your artistic talent from." he smirked. Lizzy nodded in agreement, realizing how true Mr. and Mrs. Harrison had been when they said she was so much like her parents. Fervently, she took the oddly-shaped gift wrapped in plain, brown paper, and opened it. Two items were in there, folded up as tightly as possible. Lizzy unfolded a shirt that must've belonged to her mother; it was pale yellow with flowing sleeves, and carried the scent of daisies, which was coincidentally her favorite flower and something she drew all the time. Somehow, she must have remembered it subconsciously from her mother. The second article was a hat, that she assumed was her father's, for it carried the distinct smell of charcoal (a medium he must've used a lot for his drawings), and cigarettes. Lizzy put the hat on and held the shirt up in front of her for her friend to see.

"Very cool." he remarked, as she found yet another note, this time written in the same handwriting that was on the back of the pictures.

_Lizzy, _

_We wanted you to have something that belonged to each of us, so that you'll remember your parents._

_Love, Mom and Dad _

Lizzy kept the hat on and the shirt in her lap while she grabbed the last item, which was an envelope that had aged a bit. Her name was written on the front of it in Jude's handwriting. Curious, Lizzy tore it open and pulled out a couple sheets of paper; a lengthy letter written by her father. She shifted her position, so she was sitting with her back against the couch, and looked up at Paul.

"Want me to read it out loud?" she questioned. "It's from my dad."

"Only if you want to."

Lizzy nodded, and started reading the letter aloud.

"_August 26, 1968._

_Dearest Lizzy,_

_I wanted to write this letter to you to make sure that you knew where you came from. I want you to remember that, no matter whose last name you have, or wherever you end up, you will always be our little girl. I want to tell you the story of how your mother and I met, and how our family came together. Not all of us are related by blood; that never made a difference to any of us, and your aunts and uncles love you just the same. I trust that Margaret and Charlie Harrison will give you this letter when they think the time is right for you to know who you really are. _

_I was born in Liverpool, England. My mother, Martha--your grandmother--was born and raised in Liverpool as well, and met my father, Wes, while he was stationed there. He was an American soldier fighting in World War II. They never married, and he left while my mother was pregnant with me. Unfortunately, he didn't know I existed until a number of years later, when I traveled to the States to find him. _

_However, what I found was hardly what I expected. He worked at Princeton University, but not as a professor, as I'd originally thought. He was just a maintenance worker, and our meeting was not spectacular. He was married and had a couple of kids; I knew that he wouldn't want much to do with me, but I figured it was good to at least let him know that he'd fathered another son. _

_Anyway, while at Princeton, I met your uncle Max, a wild, rebellious college student. He's an interesting person, Max. He loves you a lot, Lizzy; you always seem to make him smile. Max invited me for Thanksgiving dinner, which was a holiday completely foreign to me, if you can believe that. On the way to Max's home, he picked up his sister, Lucy, from school. That's when we first met, and suddenly I found myself taken by her. _

_Max ended up dropping out of Princeton, and he and I went to New York City, while Lucy stayed behind, much to my displeasure. Max and I became roommates with your aunt Sadie, who was the landlady of an apartment in Greenwich Village. Soon after, JoJo joined us as both a roommate and Sadie's guitar player for her band. You loved watching him play, Lizzy; he said he'd teach you someday, but obviously never got the chance. _

_Prudence also shared the apartment, and we all quickly became good friends. Lucy came to stay with us after the death of her boyfriend, who had been killed while fighting in Vietnam. Even though I was overjoyed to see her, she unfortunately brought bad news along. Since Max had dropped out of school, the army was quick to draft him, and he was forced to be recruited. _

_Meanwhile, your mother and I were forgetting about past relationships and falling in love. Honestly, I'd never been so in love with someone in my life, and I still feel that way about your mother. The two of us are inseparable now, Lizzy. _

_The entire group of us was then swept up in the carefree, crazy, drug-induced attitude of the sixties. Before Max was sent off to war, we ended up in the middle of nowhere and none of us really cared. We were enjoying ourselves, living in the moment. Nevertheless, when we returned to New York and Max left, things started changing. It was inevitable; the era in which we lived was all about change._

_It turned out Sadie had signed with a record label and had plans to go solo, which made JoJo angry and split up their band, as well as their own relationship. Your mother was increasingly worried--as we all were--about Max's safety over in Vietnam. She joined an anti-war group and started participating in demonstrations; I saw less and less of her. Things went progressively downhill from there. Lucy left me after a fight we had. I went to this protest that she had been telling me about in an attempt to see her, because of course, I still loved her. I ended up getting beaten up by the bloody cops and sent to jail, where I was deported back to Liverpool because I didn't have a visa. _

_I missed your mother terribly in the time that was gone. After awhile, I realized I needed to get back to her. I couldn't go on knowing that she was so far away and I still loved her very much. I returned to the States legally this time, and found that Max was back and in one piece, Sadie and JoJo were together again, and ultimately, Lucy was still very much in love with me as well. _

_Your mother and I married a short while after that, and before we knew it, Lucy was pregnant with you. The day you were born was one of the best days of my entire life, Lizzy. And I'm not just saying that; it's true. It was hard for me and your mum to give you up, but we couldn't make it work any longer. You were two-years-old and we were struggling to make ends meet. Placing you up for adoption was something we thought would in the end be the most beneficial for you. And you are our first priority. I just want you to know that we love you, and we always will no matter what. I hope you can understand the reasons behind our decision, and that it did hurt each and every one of us to see you leave. _

_When I went back to see you mother in New York again, I sang her a song on the rooftop of Sadie's record company so she could find me. From the day you were born, I sang that same song to you every night, before you went to sleep. I've written the lyrics below, so that maybe you'll remember. And maybe someday, if you want to, you'll find your way back to us. _

_There's nothing you can do that can't be done_

_Nothing you can sing that can't be sung_

_Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game_

_It's easy_.

_There's nothing you can make that can't be made_

_No one you can save that can't be saved_

_Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time._

_It's easy._

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love, love_

_Love is all you need._

_There's nothing you can know that isn't known  
Nothing you can see that isn't shown  
No where you can be that isn't where you're meant to be   
It's easy_

All you need is love  
All you need is love   
All you need is love, love  
Love is all you need 

_P.S. -- I love you._"

Lizzy had tears streaming down her face by the time she reached the end. She was left partially speechless, although she had come upon another revelation about where she had really come from.

"That's quite a history." Paul observed.

"Paul," Lizzy said slowly, a smile spreading across her face, "Remember the song I was humming last night?"

"Yeah."

"This song is the one I picked up from my dreams! My dreams were pieces of memories, Paul. Those people must be my family, and the guy singing the melody of the song was my father!"

"Why doesn't anything this cool ever happen to _me_?" Paul wondered aloud.

"_All you need is love_

_All you need is love_

_All you need is love, love_

_Love is all you need…_"

Lizzy sang, the words flowing beautifully and correctly in her gorgeous voice. She did remember, like her Jude had meant for her to. That night, as Lizzy slept peacefully in one of Paul's sleeping bags, the people in her dreams had distinct features to their faces, and the familiar song now carried lyrics.


	7. Crying, Waiting, Hoping

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything...unfortunately. **

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews!!!**

**New York City**

**December, 1985**

"…forecasts are predicting a _very_ white Christmas, with severe snow storms developing later this week. Temps could drop into the 'teens and we could see a record of over three feet of snow…"

Max turned off the radio, glancing out the nearest window to find that it had already begun to snow. It was coming down lightly, just enough to add a dusting to the two or three inches that had previously fallen. The branches of the barren trees were plastered in ice, and icicles hung from almost every high surface.

Max had been sitting at the kitchen table watching as his wife, Valerie, baked tray upon tray of Christmas cookies. She had been baking all day--making a wide variety; everything from cut-outs to the classic chocolate chip--filling their apartment with the heavenly aroma. He turned and admired her, a smirk spreading across his face, wondering how he'd managed to settle down with such a beautiful woman.

It had been hard, of course, for Valerie to "tame" him. When they met, she was just a substitute teacher, and worked part-time as a waitress at a local diner. (Now she had a steady job teaching history classes at a high school.) Max was still the womanizing bachelor plagued with the effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, not to mention he'd been pretty torn up about his niece leaving them. Once they laid eyes on each other, Max had her falling for him with his irresistible charm, and she had him captivated by her very presence. Even Max could see that their relationship was meant to go much further than any one night stand. Valerie was able to tolerate Max on every level, and Max was thankful to have her by his side through the rough patches. They dated for awhile, and before they knew it, they were happily married with two wonderful children.

Max got up from his seat and approached Valerie, who was standing at the counter rolling out cookie dough. Her hands and the front of her shirt were covered in flour, and her light brown hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail, but Max found her highly attractive nonetheless. He slid his arms around her waist, and bent down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

"_I want you_

_I want you so bad_

_I want you_

_I want you so bad…_"

Max told his wife, who stopped working. She brushed a strand of hair out of her hazel eyes and laughed, finding her husband distracting. It was hard to bake when you had Max there to serenade you about how he wanted to make out with you.

"Not now, Max." she mock-scolded, placing her hands on top of his.

"_It's driving me mad_

_It's driving me mad…_"

"Max," she turned around, grinning at him. "I'm busy…and the kids--"

"The kids are fine," Max replied, putting his hands on either side of her face. "and I'm sure you can afford to stop slaving over the oven to spend a little _quality time _with your husband."

It was really hard to resist him, what with that adorable smile and all. Valerie leaned in to kiss Max; their lips barely met, when--

"_Mom_! Max spilled my nail polish all over the carpet!" Michelle Rose Carrigan, Valerie and Max's twelve-year-old daughter, yelled from her bedroom. Max groaned, looking at his wife pathetically.

"If you behave," she whispered, "I'll spend some _quality time _with you later."

Michelle emerged after a few moments, towing her seven-year-old brother, Max Jr., by the sleeve of his shirt. He had a guilty look in his eyes, and the tips of some of his fingers were stained with bright, tangerine-colored nail polish. He was the spitting image of Max, with his disheveled, golden blond hair, sapphire eyes, and obvious trouble making abilities. Michelle, on the other hand, took after her mother, not only in physical appearance, but also in her personality. She was a total girly-girl, and was often spoiled by her aunts Prudence and Rita.

"Maxwell Jude Carrigan," Valerie reprimanded; Max cringed at the use of his full name and hung his head. "What have I told you about touching Michelle's things?"

"To not do it…" Max mumbled.

"Apologize to your sister, buddy." His father told him.

"Sorry." The young boy answered. Pleased enough, Max put an arm around his daughter's shoulders and walked with her back to her room to help clean up the mess. Max Jr. returned to his own room; Valerie rolled her eyes once he left her sight. There was never a dull moment in the Carrigan household…

------------------------------------------

Sadie and JoJo entered their apartment, arms filled with bags and other luggage. They'd just finished a weekend of performing at various venues up and down the coast, and were quite exhausted. They couldn't wait to unwind and take it easy for a few days. Touring always managed to take a toll on both of them, and it was nice to come home and be with family again.

A smile graced Sadie's lips when she heard the familiar sound of a guitar wailing somewhere in the apartment.

"Jimi! Eleanor!" JoJo shouted, closing the door behind them. He and Sadie set their bags aside, JoJo placing his guitars carefully against the back of the couch. The guitar playing came to an abrupt end, and their children ambled in from the small hallway where their bedrooms were located.

Jimi, their fourteen-year-old son, had been the one playing guitar. He had obviously inherited his parents' love for music, and his father's talent. Eleanor, who was following behind her brother, was a feisty twelve-year-old with a wicked singing voice, although her true passion was writing. From a young age, she loved to tell stories, and had notebooks filled with her own tales. The two of them were a mix of both of their parents; dark skinned with sparkling, mahogany brown eyes. Eleanor had Sadie's stunning, curly hair, while Jimi took after JoJo.

"Hey, guys," Sadie greeted, giving each of her kids a hug and a kiss. JoJo bent down to kiss Eleanor on the cheek and shared a high-five with his son, while giving him an encouraging remark about his guitar playing.

"You weren't too bad while we were gone, were ya? No wild parties, strip poker…I know your uncle Max would jump at the chance to put those kinds of ideas into your heads." Sadie stated. Jimi and Eleanor shared an amused glance before joining their parents on the couch.

"How were the concerts?" Eleanor asked, leaning back against her father's shoulder.

"Rockin'," JoJo replied. "As usual. The Florida gig was nice, man…warm and sunny. Then we come back to this…" He gestured to the snow outside, shaking his head. Once JoJo mentioned the Florida show, Sadie's thoughts immediately turned to the girl with bright, blue eyes. Ever since that girl had talked to her, Sadie couldn't stop thinking about how much she had resembled Lucy and Jude. She felt as though she should've brought it up to her husband, but never really got the chance.

"In all seriousness, though, you didn't annoy the hell outta your aunts and uncles, did you?" Sadie questioned, pushing that thought to the back of her mind again.

"Nah," Jimi reassured her. "Aunt Valerie came up to check on us, and so did Aunt Lucy. We went down and ate dinner with them every night, too."

"They took good care of us," Eleanor agreed. "They always do." Sadie grinned. It was a comfort to know that the group pf them had remained so close. They were practically family--they all considered themselves as such. It also helped that, slowly but surely, they all moved into apartments in the same building. They moved out of their cramped, Greenwich place into a nicer building in a better neighborhood to raise their children. Sadie and JoJo lived above Max and Valerie, Max and Valerie lived down the hall from Jude and Lucy, and Prudence and Rita resided in an apartment two floors up from Lucy and Jude. It was the perfect arrangement. Since Michelle and Eleanor were the same age, they hung out all the time, and Max usually tagged along with Jimi, almost as if the older boy was his role model. Unfortunately, they were still missing the little girl who was very dear to their hearts…

"So, what have you all been doing while we were away?" JoJo inquired.

"Nothing much to report." Jimi stated.

"Yeah…Aunt Pru and Aunt Rita are still on vacation in California. Aunt Pru called yesterday and said that they'd be home by Christmas Eve." Eleanor informed her parents.

"Speaking of Christmas…who's having the party at their place, Jo? You remember?"

JoJo shrugged. "Couldn't tell ya."

Sadie sat up, suddenly sort of panicked. "I better call…I hope we're not having it here…otherwise, we'll be eating macaroni and cheese and singing Christmas carols around the fake plant in the corner, 'cause I don't have a blessed thing ready." She disappeared into the kitchen to call Lucy, the bead curtain clattering noisily behind her.

"C'mon," JoJo said to Jimi, "I'll help ya with that song on guitar. You wanna watch, Elle?"

"Sure." Eleanor said eagerly. She trailed her older brother and JoJo into the back bedroom, and soon the wail of the guitar resonated throughout the apartment once more.

---------------------------------------------------------

Lucy sat curled up on the window seat, observing the people down on the street who were walking hurriedly through the falling snow. Some broke into a run to their cars, staring down at the ground as they went. Others took their time, while trying to keep their hats and scarves securely on themselves. They all looked terribly cold; normally, Lucy would give anything to be outside in that weather, freezing or not. Today was not one of those days. Today, unfortunately, was a day where Lucy's thoughts had rendered her into a reflective, saddened state--something she usually went through around the holidays.

It was hard for Lucy, knowing that her only child--her baby girl, who was seventeen now--was halfway across the universe, or so it seemed. She and Jude were forced to spend another Christmas without her. Everyone knew it was tough for the both of them, and the rest of the family skirted around the subject, hesitant to bring it up during this particular time of the year. For the first five years Lizzy was gone, Lucy often spent a good deal of the holiday holed up in her room, crying. She found it even harder when the Harrisons sent letters telling of their daughter's progress (including pictures of Lizzy as well), but the feelings of sorrow worsened once they stopped writing and Lucy no longer received the photos of their child. They had lost every connection with her, and that fact left a gaping hole in her heart.

Sighing, Lucy stood and sauntered down the hall to Jude's art studio, where he had been working quietly for the past hour and a half. The door was slightly ajar; Lucy could see her husband bent over at his desk, hand moving expertly over a large paper, perfecting his latest drawing. She pushed the door open further and slid inside, taking time to admire the various pieces of artwork hung all over the room. Some were finished, others had just been started, and a few had not formed into anything quite recognizable. The room was a good size; white walls and a hardwood floor which had paint splatters in random places and in an assortment of colors. Several easels had been set up around the room as well, some held completed paintings, while additional ones held others that hadn't been finished.

Lucy moved toward Jude, peering over his shoulder at the new drawing. His hands were stained with charcoal, which was the medium he had chosen for this particular piece. He stopped when he heard his wife approaching, and held the paper up for her to see. It was a sketch of Lizzy, a copy of the picture he had in a frame on his desk. She was two, and Jude had been trying to get her to finger paint. There was paint all over her, and she was giggling.

"Cute." she said.

Jude smiled. "It's one of my favorites." He moved his chair back, leaving room for Lucy to take a seat on his lap. She hooked her arms around his neck and leaned into his shoulder.

"You all right, love?" he asked, placing a soft kiss into her hair.

"I still miss her, Jude." Lucy confessed, letting a tear slip down her cheek. Jude wrapped his arms around Lucy's waist.

"I know," he replied. "I do, too."

"I mean, to think that we don't even know what she _looks like _now…" she stated. "Or what her favorite color is, or what music she listens to, or if she has a boyfriend…stupid little things, but…I want to _know_. Charlie and Maggie haven't written in _twelve years_, Jude. Who knows what the hell could've happened in all that time?" Lucy wondered.

Sometimes, like this very moment, she often questioned whether they had made the right decision. She hadn't pictured her family this way. She was supposed to talk to her daughter about boy problems and let her vent about annoying girls at school and the latest gossip. Jude was supposed to interrogate her boyfriends and spoil her rotten. Both of them were feeling immense regret; that maybe, somehow, they could've worked it out so that Lizzy could've stayed with them. Constantly, they thought about what their daughter was doing wherever she was, and if she had ever thought about the possibility of meeting her real parents.

Lucy got up from Jude's lap and went to the window, where frost had begun to form because of the bitter cold. Her azure eyes swept the freezing, snow-covered street outside, mirroring the feeling in her heart.

"_Crying, crying,  
waiting, waiting,  
hoping, hoping,  
you'll come back,  
I just can't seem  
to get you off my mind._

_Crying, crying,  
waiting, waiting,  
hoping, hoping,  
you'll come back.  
You're the one I love.  
I think about you  
all the time…_"

Lucy wept, letting the tears fall freely. Jude got to his feet and approached his wife, pulling her to him.

"_Crying, crying,  
tears keep a-falling  
all night long.  
Waiting, waiting,  
it seems so useless,  
I know it's wrong  
to keep on... _

_...crying, crying,  
waiting, waiting,  
hoping, hoping,  
you'll come back  
maybe someday soon,  
things will change  
and you'll be mine…_"

Jude sang sadly, a troubled look in his warm, brown eyes. He missed Lizzy terribly, and like Lucy, there wasn't a day that went by when he didn't think about her. Their voices blended together this time, each carrying a noticeable hint of misery:

"_Crying, crying,  
waiting, waiting,  
hoping, hoping…_"


	8. Free As A Bird

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing!**

"How did you sleep, Lizzy?" Paul's mother asked at breakfast the next morning as she set a huge plate of pancakes in the center of the table. The two teenagers had shuffled in groggily only a few moments before, and now the display of food had immediately woken them up.

"Fine," Lizzy replied, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table as her friend. Paul, being the gentleman, pushed the plate of pancakes toward her so she could take some first. Lizzy knew better; it had probably taken him a lot of effort to do that, considering he was practically drooling at the sight of pancakes. Typical guy. "Ya know, for someone who just found out that they're adopted and their real parents are living somewhere in New York."

Paul's mother raised an eyebrow, not knowing what to say in response to that. She'd known Lizzy as long as her son had; she was basically her surrogate daughter. She'd never expected something like this. "Oh." she said, putting a container of syrup on the table. Lizzy picked up a pancake with her fork, dangling it in the air for Paul to see before she set it onto her plate. She stacked two more on top, and finally shoved the large plate to Paul, who took the rest. Rolling her eyes, Lizzy dug into her food hungrily.

"You two have any plans for today?" Paul's mom questioned.

Paul looked up from his food. "I don't know." He said with a mouth full of pancakes. His words were barely decipherable, but Lizzy got the impression anyway. His mother stared at him in a disapproval, hands on her hips.

"The beach, maybe." Lizzy suggested.

"That's fine. Just have the car back by two--I have work at two-thirty."

Paul gave his mother a thumbs-up, instead of risking getting yelled at for talking with his mouth full of food. He and Lizzy finished eating, and got themselves ready for the day. Once Lizzy was changed, she tucked the picture of her parents into the back pocket of her jean Capri pants and joined her friend in the living room, where he was waiting for her, car keys in hand.

"Careful driving, Paulie." His mother called as they left the apartment. Paul's face turned as red as a strawberry at the nickname, while Lizzy had trouble holding in her laughter. She hit him playfully in the arm when they were down the hall.

"_Paulie_," she giggled, "I didn't know she still called you that. _I_ don't even call you that anymore. Although, I might have to start that up again…"

"Please, spare me the humiliation," Paul groaned. "It was bad enough in grade school."

"Oh, come on. I didn't embarrass you _that _bad." Lizzy protested.

Paul hit the button the elevator door and they waited for it to arrive. "Yeah, _okay_, Liz. I don't know what planet _you're_ living on, because I distinctly remember you coming up to me many times in the hallway, yelling at the top of your lungs, 'Paulie! Over here!'. And you did that whole girly waving your arms thing."

"Shut up, I did _not_."

"You totally did." Paul argued, as they stepped into the elevator, which took them to the ground level.

"Give me a break. It was grade school."

Paul said nothing to further the disagreement, even when they got into the car. Lizzy settled herself into the passenger's seat and took control over the radio. Neither one of them spoke until they were a few blocks from the apartment building.

"So, the beach, huh?" Paul asked.

"For a little while," Lizzy said. "I figure I just…need to clear my head a bit. Think some things over."

Five minutes later, she and Paul were on the beach, trying to skip stones on the water. The area of the beach they were occupying was vacant, which was perfect. The sky was cloudless today, and it was a lot more humid. Great swimming weather, but neither of them wanted to get their clothes soaked. Lizzy had flung her shoes into the sand and was scouring the shore for good skipping rocks while enjoying the tranquility. Nature was one of those things that brought out a reflective mood in her.

Last night, she had slept soundly. Her dreams were filled with bits of memories of her past, and the faces of her family--the people who loved her, and had cared for her. She had heard Jude's voice clearly this time, singing every word to that song. Snap shots of whatever she could recall from her two years with them came flooding back, and soon the dream had morphed into something Lizzy could only imagine.

She saw herself walking on a beach like the one she was at now. She was dressed in a flowing, white skirt and the yellow shirt her mother had once worn. Her feet were bare, and she was walking in the warm sand. Suddenly, she noticed two figures approaching her from the distance. As they came closer, she recognized them as her parents, Lucy and Jude. Her mother looked radiant in a blue skirt similar to the one she was wearing, a white tank top, and daisies in her silky, blond hair. Jude was dressed in jeans and a green button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Both were smiling, happy about being reunited at last. Lizzy stood, grinning, waiting for them to reach her. Unfortunately, when Lucy and Jude were just about to get to Lizzy, she woke up.

Lizzy had taken the dream as a sign. Her fate. She needed a change; she didn't belong with the Harrisons. She was rightfully Lucy's and Jude's child, and just by glancing through the things they had sent, she felt more of a connection to them than she ever did with the people who had been raising her for the past fifteen years. Lizzy dropped the stone she had been holding and sunk down onto the sand, fingering the strawberry pendant necklace that she had made sure to put on this morning. She pulled the picture of her parents from her back pocket, scanning it with a smile.

Paul stopped hurling stones at the waves and sat down beside his friend. He could just _tell _that she was plotting something. He didn't ask; he let her work it out before she admitted it to him. She looked very pensive, so whatever it was, it had to be important.

"I want to find my parents, Paul." she declared sincerely. Paul had almost been expecting her to say that, especially after last night. He couldn't blame her, really. She was better off with her biological parents, even if that meant she'd have to leave Florida for good. He didn't know what he'd do if his best friend left…but he didn't want to be selfish. Lizzy had to do this.

"This is…are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

"Okay, then," Paul said. "We'll go to New York City."

"_We_?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to let you go by yourself."

"But what about your mom…?"

"Liz, you're _not _going alone."

"Fine," Lizzy replied, her fingers finding the necklace once more. "but I don't know how you're going to convince her to let you come with me to New York. _I _don't even know how we're going to get there."

"We'll figure something out."

"Yeah, 'cause that's _really _reassuring…" Lizzy trailed off. "The Harrisons are going to freak when I tell them."

"Or you could _not_ tell them." Paul said with a mischievous smirk. Lizzy raised an eyebrow. That was actually a very good idea. If she went to New York without letting the Harrisons know, they wouldn't be able to stop her. Besides, she had every right to go search for her real parents.

"I like the way you think…"

---------------------------------------

"Are you sure they're not going to be home?" Paul asked several hours later, as he and Lizzy were approaching the Harrisons' house. They had just come from his apartment, where they had dropped off the car and calmly asked his mother if he could accompany Lizzy to New York in order to find her biological parents. She responded well, after the initial disbelief wore off. She was logical about the whole thing, knowing that it wasn't safe for Lizzy to go by herself. When she asked the teens how they were going to get to New York, they told her not to worry, even though neither one of them had come up with anything yet.

"Yes, Paul. Relax, Mr. Harrison won't be home until tonight, and the Mrs. won't be back for at least two hours."

Lizzy knew the door was going to be locked, and unfortunately, she hadn't brought her key with her when she fled to Paul's. The Harrisons weren't the type of people to leave a spare under their Welcome mat, so she had to figure out an alternate plan. She motioned for Paul to follow her around the back of the house; the window to the downstairs guest bedroom was always left unlocked. Lizzy lifted the window open, climbed up onto the sill, and hopped in. Once successfully inside, she let Paul in through the back door and shut the window.

The two of them went upstairs to Lizzy's bedroom, and she began to gather some of her things together frantically. She pulled out a backpack, and stuffed it with clothes and personal items, and small photo albums of her favorite pictures throughout the years. She also grabbed a portfolio of her best artwork, to take with her to show her family, and her acceptance letter from the School of Visual Arts. Lizzy made a mental note to take her sketchbook and pencils from Paul's apartment when they went back there.

Lizzy grabbed her things and went downstairs, pausing to steal the keys to Mr. Harrison's sports car from its usual spot in the kitchen. Paul gave her a questioning glance, which she dismissed. She walked over to Mr. Harrison's office and took the address book from his desk, hoping that maybe they'd have the address to her parents' Greenwich apartment written down. Luckily, they did, and Lizzy was able to copy it onto a scrap of paper, which she tucked into her pocket. Paul then followed her out the back door and to the driveway. Lizzy went to go unlock the car.

"You're just going to steal his car and drive off to New York with it?" he inquired, watching her toss her belongings into the back seat. She shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. He'd expect such behavior from himself, but not his friend. She was rebellious, but only up until a certain point.

"That's the plan," Lizzy answered. "And I'm not stealing. I'd call it _borrowing_. I'll give it back eventually. C'mon, get in."

Paul only shook his head and climbed into the passenger's seat. "I don't think I've seen you so…rebellious before. I like it."

Lizzy laughed. She couldn't believe she was doing this either. But she was desperate, and "borrowing" Mr. Harrison's car seemed like the only way to get to New York. They didn't have enough money to fly; they barely had enough money combined to fill up the gas tank when it got toward empty. Lizzy just prayed that the thing would get them to their destination.


	9. Magical Mystery Tour

**Disclaimer: Don't own...I swear.**

**A/N: Yay, another update! As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!**

Long stretches of roads lay before them, miles already left in their wake. They'd been traveling for nearly two days; Paul and Lizzy each taking shifts, alternating between sleeping and driving. They had to rough it, not having enough money to stop at a motel for the night or buy proper food to feed themselves. They stopped periodically at a gas stations to purchase bags of chips and bottles of water. The two of them had pooled their last dollars to pay for a tank of gas, which they had stopped for back in Charleston, South Carolina.

Paul was at the wheel now, looking exhausted but focused. Lizzy felt bad that he'd volunteered himself for this, when neither one of them actually knew how tough it would be. Lizzy sat in the passenger's seat, with the map spread out on the dashboard and her sketchpad in her lap. She twirled the pencil in her hands absentmindedly as she gazed out the window. It was the middle of the afternoon; it seemed as if they were the only car on the road. Lizzy was bored of staring at the same scenery. Every state they went to, it was all similar. Small towns, deserted roads, shady looking gas stations. She was incredibly anxious to see the bright lights and overwhelming sounds of New York City.

As they passed through North Carolina, Virginia, and entered West Virginia, both Paul and Lizzy kept a cautious eye on the level of gas in the car, because it seemed to get lower every time they glanced at it. Paul hated to admit it--he wasn't going to say it out loud--but he had a bad feeling that the car wasn't going to make it to New York. They still had to go through West Virginia and Pennsylvania, and that was a lot of driving. And they had no clue what the weather was going to be like once they went father up north. The teenagers had already become aware of the drop in temperature. Being from Florida, Paul and Lizzy didn't have experience driving in the snow.

Lizzy stared down at the blank paper in her sketchpad, and sighed. The open road wasn't striking her with any creativity as of yet. Maybe because her thoughts were always elsewhere, often daydreaming. She kept imagining the reunion between herself and her family, running through a million different scenarios. Thinking of what she might say, or how she might act, or even how _they_ might respond. Surprised, definitely. Happy? She hoped so. By what Jude had written his letter, they seemed pretty willing to meet again.

…_maybe someday, if you want to, you'll find your way back to us. _That's what he had said. And that's exactly what Lizzy was doing.

She closed the sketchbook and tossed it into the backseat with all of her and Paul's luggage. Lizzy tucked the pencil into her pocket and turned the heat up a little bit. It was major change to be going from extreme heat to near bitter cold.

"Paul." Lizzy called. He looked over.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna switch?"

"Yeah…sure." Paul pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the car. Lizzy slid into the driver's seat, and he took the passenger's side. After Lizzy shut the door, she reached into the back and uncovered a hoodie from her backpack, which she tugged on before buckling her seat belt. Lizzy pulled the car back onto the road and drove on while Paul shifted to a comfortable position. Discovering that there wasn't really a comfortable position _at all_, he gave up with a frustrated groan. Paul tapped his fingers on the arm rest, thoughts wandering while he tried to keep himself from going insane with sheer boredom. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy being in Lizzy's company, it was just annoying to be stuck in one place for a long period of time. He was eager to get to the Big Apple.

"I'm bored." Paul stated, voicing his own restless thoughts.

"Well, I'm _sorry_," Lizzy said sarcastically. "There's not much I can do. But if you start up that 'Are we there yet?' shit again, I'll be forced to beat your ass."

Paul laughed. "You know I was just joking around."

"Yeah, that's what you said for the first…I don't know…fifty miles."

"How about we play some of those road trip games?" Paul suggested. "You know, like the one where you count how many cars there are of a certain color…"

"Yeah…_no_. What are we, five?" Lizzy giggled. "Take my sketchbook. Maybe you'll have more luck than I did." Paul nodded. Sketching, even though he didn't have much artistic ability, was better than not doing anything. He grabbed Lizzy's sketchpad, and she handed him the pencil from her pocket. Paul looked intently at the blank page for a few moments, contemplating what to draw. He wasn't the artist, so whatever he did end up drawing was probably going to look like crap anyway.

Paul looked over at his best friend. Her deep brown hair was slightly disheveled, and her stunning, sapphire eyes were concentrated on the road. Lizzy's hands had a firm grip on the wheel, her right hand keeping a beat to some unknown song. Given her untidy appearance, he still saw her beauty; a beauty that had become especially apparent to him in the past couple of years. He started his sketch, drawing a rough outline of Lizzy's profile. Paul took great care in his drawing, although he knew he'd never be able to capture Lizzy the way _he_ saw her.

Meanwhile, Lizzy was watching the level of gas out of the corner of her eye as she drove. The thing was almost on empty, and they were getting close to the border of Pennsylvania. It wasn't until a few miles after they crossed into Pennsylvania that their fears came true. The car made some weird noises, and came to an abrupt halt. Lizzy shared a panicked glance with Paul, who shut the sketchbook and threw it in the back. Lizzy, aggravated, slammed her hands down on the steering wheel, and rested her forehead on her hands.

"Shit," she cursed. They were stuck on some random road, in the middle of nowhere, without a gas station in sight. If there had even been a gas station within walking distance, neither teen had money to pay for a tank of gas. To add to their problems, it had begun to snow when they entered Pennsylvania. Big flakes were coming down fast, and it seemed like it had no intention of stopping. "Damn it, Paul…we were so fucking _close_."

Paul reached over to rub soothing circles onto his friend's back. "It's all right. We'll figure something out."

Lizzy picked her up. "How can you say that? We're in the middle of _nowhere_, in a snow storm!" She let out an irritated groan and got out of the car, pocketing the keys. To take out some of her anger, she gave the side of the car a good kick before opening the back door. She shoved her sketchbook into her backpack, which she slung over one shoulder, and picked up her portfolio.

"What are we doing?" Paul asked, taking his belongings as well. Lizzy shrugged.

"Don't know," she stated, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "but I'm not going to wait here. We're getting to New York one way or another." Paul couldn't help but smirk at Lizzy's stubborn determination, even under the current circumstances. They had no choice but to leave the car where it was; Lizzy knew Mr. Harrison would be pissed, but it wasn't like he couldn't afford to buy another one. And at that point, she didn't care what the hell happened to the car, as long as she and her friend made it to New York City.

The teenagers put the hoods of their sweatshirts up and pressed on, keeping their hands in their sleeves or pockets. They walked close to each other; Paul's arm wrapped around Lizzy's shoulder to provide extra warmth. They didn't know how long they'd have to do this before they came across someone who'd drive them further, so they kept their heads down and walked.

"You okay?" Paul questioned later on. The seventeen-year-old had no clue as to how long they'd been walking, but there was no way they could go on much further. Lizzy had started shivering quite violently beside him, and he had to hold onto her a few times because her legs had almost given out. The two of them were feeling fatigued and very cold. The sky was growing darker, and that most likely meant the temperature was going to drop even more. If they went on like this, they'd both get hypothermia.

"N-N-Not…r-really." Lizzy admitted, teeth chattering.

"Let's stop for awhile." Paul suggested, taking hold of Lizzy's arm. She stopped walking, and gave him a confused look. He dumped his belongings onto the snow-covered ground, and took Lizzy's things from her, which he set beside his stuff. With his shoe, Paul cleared the snow from a spot on the side of the road and sat down, motioning for her to join him. Reluctantly, she sat down, and Paul wrapped his arms around her in a desperate attempt to keep in some warmth. He wasn't so much worried about himself as he was for his friend. Lizzy stayed close, burying her head deeper into her hoodie. She tried to imagine the heat of the sun back in Florida…sitting on the beach…digging her toes in the sand…

"_Good day sunshine  
Good day sunshine  
Good day sunshine_

We take a walk, the sun is shining down  
Burns my feet as they touch the ground

_Good day sunshine  
Good day sunshine  
Good day sunshine…_"

Lizzy whispered, a faint smile gracing her lips. She held onto the memory, a distraction from the freezing weather surrounding them. She must've fallen asleep, because some time later, Paul was shaking her awake frantically.

"Lizzy, wake up! Get up--there's a car coming!" Paul shouted. She opened her eyes as Paul got to his feet and began waving his arms in the air. Lizzy stood, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She noticed that night had fallen, and two headlights were shining clearly in the distance, coming from the direction where they'd left the car. Lizzy rolled her eyes at Paul and stepped forward a little, and motioned for the car to stop.

Thankfully, the car halted in front of them. But this wasn't just any normal car, as Paul and Lizzy immediately discovered. Even in the dark, they could see that it was a bright yellow VW Microbus. Very hippie-esque, too, considering the amount of random things painted onto it.

_Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band _

_The Magical Mystery Tour _

That was the hand painted message on the side of the bus. The passenger door opened, and a man with round spectacles and long, shoulder-length hair stepped out.

"You kids need a lift to somewhere?" he asked.

"Yeah." Paul answered as he and Lizzy picked up their things.

"Where ya headed?"

"New York City." Lizzy replied.

"Awesome," he said. "We have a gig in Manhattan. We'll give ya a ride. Hop in."

Lizzy and Paul shared a glance before agreeing to go with the band. The door slid open and the two teens climbed in, all the while being greeted by the other band members. It was much, much warmer inside, and the teens found themselves feeling a bit revived by the heat.

Besides the guy with the glasses, there were two additional men, with equally long hair and psychedelic clothing, and one woman. It was like they had climbed their way into a time warp. The band appeared to be fairly young, possibly in their late twenties to early thirties.

In the back of the van, there was all sorts of equipment, and the rest of the space was scattered with random junk, all indications that the band basically lived out of their car. Once Lizzy and Paul squeezed themselves in with their belongings, the guy driving took off, and the other man who'd offered them a ride turned around to face them. The other guy and the woman were sitting in the back seat smoking…and Lizzy had a feeling they weren't smoking cigarettes.

"So what're your names?" The man with the glasses inquired.

"I'm Lizzy," she responded. "and this is my friend Paul. We're from Florida."

"Cool," he said. There was a tone to his voice that made the teens believe he was just a little bit stoned. "You can call me Sergeant Pepper…'s my stage name…" Paul had a half a mind to ask him what his _real _name was, and how he'd come up with a stage name like _that_, but thought better of it. "Our driver is Billy, the guy sittin' over there is George and that lovely lady is Penny."

"What were you kids doin' out there in this weather?" Penny asked.

"Our car ran out of gas, so we started walking…" Paul told her.

"And your parents let you go to the Big Apple alone? Sweeeet." she said, taking a long drag from the joint George had passed back over to her.

"Well, not exactly," Lizzy admitted. "It's a long story…"

"It's a long way to New York City," The man called Sgt. Pepper pointed out. "So let's hear it."


	10. Nowhere Man

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything...all of it belongs to the Fab Four.**

**Warning: Sixties-style drug use--you knew it was coming sooner or later...**

**A/N: As always, thank you all so much for reviewing. I hope you like this chapter, because it's probably my favorite so far. I had a lot of fun writing the second part of it. Enjoy!**

**New York City**

"Where do you want these decorations, Val?" Sadie asked, carrying in a cardboard box overflowing with Christmas lights, ornaments, and tinsel from the hall closet. Valerie was attempting to unwrap a package of lights, and Lucy was helping Max Jr. and the girls, Michelle and Eleanor, string the already opened lights up onto the artificial tree. JoJo and Jude were sitting on the couch with Jimi, watching all of this take place while carrying on a conversation about who-knows-what. The family always gathered like this to decorate the Christmas tree at the apartment where the party was going to be held--it was their own tradition.

"Oh, anywhere by the tree is fine," Valerie told her, after finally getting the package of lights open. It was pain in the ass, having to buy new lights every year once they discovered that about half of the old ones worked. "Hey, Max, can you go see if your father is going to join us today?" Max nodded, handing the string of lights over to his aunt Lucy. Michelle watched her younger sibling disappear down the hallway, shaking her head.

Max Jr. approached the door to his parents' bedroom, hand pausing once it rested on the handle. Hesitantly, he pushed the door open, trying to silence its creaking as much as he could. It was nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon, and yet the room was dark. His dad had lowered the shade to block out any light that could possibly come through the window. Knowing that he'd slept this late in a darkened room, Max was very reluctant to follow his mother's request to see if he was going to get up anytime soon.

The six-year-old padded across the gloomy bedroom, bare feet making contact with the cold, hardwood floor. He looked up to see Max Sr. lying on the bed facing the wall. He didn't know whether his father was sleeping or not, and he hated to wake him, because he was usually moody. Max Jr. clambered up onto the bed and sat on the edge, dangling his legs over the side. From there, he peered over to see that his dad was, in fact, awake. He was staring at the wall; his gaze distant and blank. He didn't move, even when his son entered, which wasn't all that surprising to the little boy.

"Daddy…" Max trailed off. "Everyone's here to decorate the Christmas tree. Mommy wants to know if you're going to help, too."

Max Jr. hadn't noticed, but Michelle was watching quietly from the doorway, peeking through the small space her brother had left open. Being twelve, she knew the reasons behind her father's behavior on days like these--days where he'd just sleep or walk around the apartment like a zombie, not talking to anyone. Occasionally, she'd see him sit in his bedroom all afternoon, drinking, but that was rare now, since Valerie caught him and ordered him to stop. Michelle knew her father was a Vietnam War veteran, and from studying it in school, she'd learned that soldiers sometimes experienced days where the memories of what they'd seen came flooding back. It was horrible to think about, but it wasn't that uncommon. Michelle absolutely hated to see her father like this; it broke her heart whenever he wasn't his normal, crazy self.

Michelle's little brother noticed their father's odd behavior, but never quite understood why he often acted the way he did. When Max Sr. did not answer, little Max tried to figure out what was wrong. "Is it one of your bad days, Daddy?" he asked. That's what Valerie and Michelle called the days when Max was like this; it was the best way to describe it to an innocent six-year-old, who knew nothing of war, death, and violence.

But Max never said a word in response to his son's question, he just kept staring. Michelle thought it was a good time to intervene, so she walked into the room and told Max to get down off the bed.

"C'mon, Max," she said. "Leave Dad alone today. Let's go help decorate the tree." Max Jr. hopped down from the bed and scurried out of the room. Michelle stayed behind for a few moments, gazing sadly at her father's still form before going back to the living room.

"Is he coming, Max?" Valerie was asking her son as Michelle knelt down to sort through the ornaments.

Max shook his head. "No, Daddy's having one of his bad days again."

Lucy shared a knowing glance with Valerie and stood up, climbing off Jude's lap where she had been sitting.

"I'm going to talk to Max." she said quietly, giving the artist a quick but lingering kiss on the cheek. Jude nodded, his deep brown eyes full of understanding. Lucy left the living room; when she entered the back bedroom, she found her older brother in the same position that he had been in when little Max had walked in. There was a depressing atmosphere to the room; Max was lying in bed, chest bare, halfway covered in a blanket. There was a whiskey bottle sitting on the nightstand that hadn't been touched. Lucy got the impression that Max had meant to start drinking, but had had enough strength to stop himself--she was proud of him for that. As she neared the bed, she saw he was there…but not really.

"_He's a real nowhere man  
Sitting in his nowhere land  
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody _

Doesn't have a point of view  
knows not where he's going to  
Isn't he a bit like you and me?" 

Lucy mused with a sigh. Lucy knew that broken, troubled expression well. She could never fully comprehend what exactly Max had gone through over there, but inside, she knew they were the same on some emotional level. They were both hurting inside, secretly dealing with their own pain each day. Lucy sat down on the bed next to her brother, and wrapped her arms around his bare torso, resting her head on his shoulder. Max didn't even attempt to push his sister away; he closed his eyes and welcomed the comforting gesture.

"Talk to me, Max," she said. "Please." Max only groaned.

"_Nowhere man please listen  
You don't know what you're missing  
Nowhere man, The world is at your command _

_He's as blind as he can be  
Just sees what he wants to see  
Nowhere man, can you see me at all  
Nowhere man don't worry  
Take your time, don't hurry  
Leave it all till somebody else  
Lends you a hand  
Ah, la, la, la, la _

Doesn't have a point of view  
knows not where he's going to  
Isn't he a bit like you and me?" 

Lucy sang, trying desperately to get her brother to open up. "I know it hurts, and I know it's hard to forget about, but you have so much to live for. Valerie, your kids, me, Jude…JoJo, Sadie…your nieces and nephews…" Lucy made another attempt, stroking Max's unruly hair out of his face:

"…_Nowhere man please listen  
You don't know what you're missing  
Nowhere man, The world is at your command  
Ah, la, la, la, la _

He's a real nowhere man  
Sitting in his nowhere land  
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody  
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody  
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody…" 

With a sigh, Max finally sat up, leaning his head against Lucy's. They stayed like that, in comfortable silence, for awhile.

"Thanks, Luce," Max stated quietly, placing a kiss on his sister's forehead. Lucy smiled, a hint of sadness in her expression as well. It didn't slip by Max, of course; he knew what pain his sister was dealing with, too. "It's okay." he told her, draping an arm around her shoulder. "I miss her, too."

--------------------------------

**Pennsylvania**

"That," Sgt. Pepper said after a long pause, "is one hell of a story, dude."

Lizzy had just spent the last hour telling the band why she and Paul were traveling alone to New York City. They all seemed pretty interested in it, like it was some kind of dramatic, made-for-TV movie. Paul and Lizzy had become pretty accustomed to the friendly, albeit eccentric band, and were fairly relaxed around them. Paul was almost certain that their cozy mood was a result of the smoke that hung in the air from the joint that the band had been passing around, but he wasn't going to complain.

"I can't believe your parents are friends with Sadie and JoJo," Penny stated. "Man, that chick is wicked cool--band rocks."

"You know them, too?" Lizzy asked.

"Yeah," George replied. "We met 'em a couple times."

"Well, kid, I hope you find your folks." Billy said. It was the first that either of the teens had heard him speak.

"Me too." Lizzy responded, almost inaudibly.

"But until that time, you'll chill with us," Sgt. Pepper said. "And I believe we haven't been very good hosts." He took a drag of the joint and passed it to Paul, encouraging him to try it. Lizzy gawked at Paul as he smoked it, acting like a pro, which made the young girl a bit curious.

She elbowed him in the arm, giggling. "Have you, umm, done this before?"

Paul smirked. "_Maybe_…" He handed it to Lizzy, who stared at it, unsure. She looked at Paul. "Oh, Liz…c'mon. Your parents were hippies. I bet they did it. Just try it."

"Peer pressure!" Penny giggled.

Lizzy reluctantly took a drag, after some instruction from Paul. She felt her head spinning immediately, and felt as though she was flying. She wasn't quite sure if she liked that sort of feeling.

"Let's get this little _fiesta _started…" George said, grabbing his acoustic guitar from the back. He started strumming a song that was obviously familiar to the band, because it earned an excited holler from Penny. George began singing, while Penny swayed back and forth and Sgt. Pepper shook his head to the beat.

"_In the town where I was born  
Lived a man who sailed to sea  
And he told us of his life  
In the land of submarines  
So we sailed up to the sun  
Till we found a sea of green  
And we lived beneath the waves  
in our yellow submarine._"

Penny and the Sgt, as well as Billy, joined George in the chorus, singing the silly--but extremely catchy--little song with as much enthusiasm as their stoned minds could manage.

"_We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine  
We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…_"

George continued with the next verse:

"_And our friends are all aboard  
Many more of them live next door  
And the band begins to play…_"

Penny made some weird noises and gestures, trying to pretend that she was playing what appeared to be a trumpet. Lizzy laughed, watching as she almost fell off the seat. The band jumped into the chorus again, and this time, the two teenagers were able to join them.

"_We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine  
We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…_"

Then, Sgt. Pepper spoke, talking in a strange tone to Billy, who listened, laughing.

"_Full speed ahead Mr. Boatswain, full speed ahead!_"

"_Full speed ahead it is, Sgt._" Billy replied, continuing the odd little conversation.

"_Cut the cable, drop the cable!_"The Sgt. ordered.

"_Aye, Sir, aye…Captain, captain…_"

Lizzy surveyed her surroundings, as they suddenly changed before her very eyes. Or so she thought…for all she knew, the effects of the drug could've been finally getting to her. At that point, she didn't have a good idea of what was really happening around her anymore. The inside of the VW bus seemed to morph into a real, yellow submarine; the snowy, cold landscape outside altered its appearance into a deep, blue-green ocean. Lizzy rubbed her eyes and stared outside the window to see all sorts of colorful, tropical fish swimming past them. She nudged Paul's arm and showed him, and the two teens watched the lively ocean scene outside as the band continued singing.

"_As we live a life of ease  
Every one of us has all we need  
Sky of blue--_"

"_Sky of blue!_"_ Penny repeated._

"…_and sea of green--_"

"_Sea of green!_"_ Penny shouted._

"_In our yellow---_"

"_In our yellow!_"she reiterated.

"_Submarine…_"

"Ahaaa!" Penny laughed hysterically.

"_We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine  
We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine  
We all live in a yellow submarine  
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…_"

The rest of the night was a blur of singing, altered surroundings, and wild chaos.


	11. Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

**Disclaimer: I don't own. **

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews! We're getting closer to the reunion between Lizzy and her parents… **

"Lizzy…" Paul called, shaking his friend gently. To the sleeping teenager, Paul's voice sounded very far away, like she was imagining it. "Lizzy, get up…you gotta see it--New York…Liz, we're in New York City." That got her to wake up real fast. She sat up from the floor of the van, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Slowly, everything came into focus and she was able to look out the car window.

"There ya have it, kiddo," Sgt. Pepper said, somewhat groggy. They had had a late night; none of them had fallen asleep until after two in the morning. Now, it was a little past eleven. Sgt. Pepper and Billy were the only ones awake besides Paul and Lizzy. George and Penny were still out, sleeping close together on the back seat in positions that didn't look too comfortable. "The Big Apple."

Cars were commuting close together in bumper-to-bumper traffic, bright yellow taxis standing out from the blur of colors. Masses of people were crossing the streets in all different directions, walking on the sidewalks, and moving in and out of stores and businesses. Towering skyscrapers dotted the city blocks among other apartment buildings, shops, and restaurants. It seemed as if everything moved fast, and everyone knew exactly where they were going. It was amazing to witness so much happening at once. The city was new and exciting, holding promise for Lizzy's future. She was pretty sure that she wanted to go to school here.

"Traffic's always hell in the city," Billy mused aloud from the driver's seat. "It's always worse on the day before Christmas."

The teenagers hadn't even realized that it was Christmas Eve until Billy pointed it out. Neither one had really paid any attention to the upcoming holiday, considering they'd been so focused on getting to New York. The past few days just melded together. Lizzy actually thought the timing was perfect--she'd get to spend this Christmas with her parents and the rest of her family.

"I can't believe we're here, Paul," she confessed. "Back in Florida, it seemed like this crazy idea I had. Something I could only wish for…and now the two of us are _really_ in New York."

"Told ya we'd get there somehow." Paul replied smugly. Lizzy gave him a lopsided grin, punching him playfully in the arm.

"You kids don't mind sticking around for sound check, do ya? You can freshen up, get a bite to eat, and then we can get you on your way." Sgt. Pepper questioned.

"That's fine." Lizzy answered.

It took a good deal of time for them to get to the concert venue. Like Billy had said, driving was atrocious because of the holiday--it was like _everyone_ was on the road. Paul could tell that Lizzy was extremely anxious; she probably didn't want to stay for sound check, but was being a good sport about it because they _did_ give them a ride. If it weren't for the band, they'd still be freezing their asses off on some deserted road in Pennsylvania. There _was_ the promise of a meal and the chance to get changed into some fresh clothes, so that was an incentive as well.

The concert venue was a café called The Word, a cozy place in comparison to the Glass Onion. It was very modern inside, and it appeared to be a very successful business. However, it left the teens wondering why a rock band would be performing there, because it was so quiet and sort of sophisticated. There was a large stage in the back corner, where the band immediately took up residence, lugging their equipment behind them. They started setting up while Paul and Lizzy made their way to the bathrooms.

Lizzy was thankful for the opportunity to freshen up, since she didn't want to look like crap when she did meet her parents. She changed into a new pair of jeans, making sure to tuck the picture of Lucy and Jude into on of the front pockets. She put on a red T-shirt, sliding her jean jacket over that; she kept her hoodie out to put on later when they left the café. Lizzy splashed some cold water onto her face and managed to brush her teeth in the bathroom sink, all the while receiving odd glances from women who came in and out. She tugged the hair tie out of her hair, which she had put up into a messy ponytail sometime during the night, and brushed her hair, deciding to leave it down. Lizzy dug Jude's hat out of her bag and placed it on her head, admiring it briefly before bending down to put her portfolio of artwork into the backpack without damaging any of it.

She went back to the main room of the café, joining Paul at a table closest to the stage. The band had their equipment mostly all set up, and were now talking into the mikes so the sound guy could get the right volume out of the speakers. George placed his guitar on its stand and came over, handing Paul some money.

"Get yourselves something to eat," he told the teenagers. "You kids look like you're starving." That wasn't very far from the truth; they really hadn't eaten anything besides a variety of unhealthy snack foods for the past few days. Paul ordered two cheeseburgers and a large order of French fries, and as soon as he brought the food to the table, they began consuming it rather quickly.

Meanwhile, onstage, the band was getting ready to play a swift run-through of a song for the purposes of the sound check. Sgt. Pepper, George, and Billy moved toward the mikes; George and Billy were guitarists, Sgt. Pepper played bass. Penny was on drums, which wasn't all that surprising, given her wild personality. Penny counted them off, beating her drum sticks together, and they went into a high energy rock song with Sgt. Pepper singing lead:

"_It was twenty years ago today  
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play   
They've been going in and out of style  
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile  
So may I introduce to you  
the act you've know for all these years  
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band…_"

George and Billy accompanied Sgt Pepper on the chorus:

"_We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band  
We hope you will enjoy the show   
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band  
Sit back and let the evening go  
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely  
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band  
It's wonderful to be here  
It's certainly a thrill  
You're such a lovely audience  
We'd like to take you home with us  
We'd love to take you home…_"

Sgt. Pepper took up the next part himself, guitar screaming and singing with intensity:

"_I don't really want to stop the show  
But I thought you might like to know  
That the singers going to sing a song  
And he wants you all to sing along  
So may I introduce to you  
The one and only Billy Shears…_"

He gestured animatedly to Billy, who stepped forward, his own guitar wailing. Sgt Pepper and the rest of the band practically yelled the last line,

"_Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band!_"

Once they stopped, the patrons of the café erupted in applause, and the band took a bow. The band had definitely brought some life into the rather sleepy atmosphere. They would most likely bring in a large crowd tonight, which would mean some good business for the café as well. Hopefully, the band would create a bigger following for themselves. Sgt. Pepper stepped off the stage, said something to the sound guy, and then he began testing the volume of the drums, which consisted of Penny hitting each repeatedly with her sticks. He set his guitar down before heading over to Lizzy and Paul's table. He gave Lizzy what appeared to be several twenty dollar bills--an amount of sixty dollars.

"Call yourselves a cab to get to the Village." he instructed.

"Thank you." Lizzy said politely.

"Good luck finding your parents, Lizzy. Tell Sadie and JoJo I said hi."

"Will do."

"Thanks…for everything you've done for us. We appreciate it. Make sure to pass that along to your band mates. And…good luck with the show tonight." Paul said.

"Thanks, kid." Sgt. Pepper answered. He gave them a wave, then returned to his place on the stage.

"Ready to go?" Paul inquired of his best friend. She nodded eagerly, already pulling her sweatshirt on. They gave a final wave to the band, and grabbed their belongings. The teenagers exited the café and stepped outside into the snow, which had begun to fall again. Lizzy fished the piece of paper with the address of the Greenwich apartment written on it out of her bag while Paul hailed a cab for them. It took a few tries, but in the end he was able to successfully flag down a taxi.

They slid into the back seat, setting their bags onto the floor by their feet. Once Lizzy slammed the door shut, she handed the paper to the cab driver, an older man with a graying beard.

"Take us to this address, please." she requested.

"No problem." he said brightly, nodding. He took off, setting the paper on the dashboard. Lizzy sat back, settling comfortably beside Paul. She removed the picture of her parents from her pocket, and kept it in her hands to look at every so often.

She could hardly contain her excitement about the impending reunion between herself and her parents. Lizzy wondered what they were like now, and how their lives had changed since she left them fifteen years ago. The one question that had somehow been at the back of her mind was whether Jude and Lucy had had any more children. She guessed that, by now, they had to be more financially stable. Why _wouldn't_ they have more kids? Lizzy pushed aside a sudden bad thought--what if they'd forgotten about her? What if she turned up on their doorstep and was not welcomed? Sure, Jude had said in his letter that he wanted her to find her way back to them, but years had passed, and things change…

Lizzy shook that train of thought from her mind. She was sure that her parents wouldn't slam the door in her face or anything, even if they'd had more children. She was still their child, too, no matter what. And from what she could remember from the two years with her family, they were very loving and kind people. Their personalities and attitudes couldn't have changed much.

Distractedly, the seventeen-year-old twisted the strawberry pendant between her thumb and index finger, as her thoughts continued to wander. She couldn't wait to show Jude and Lucy her art; she also intended to show them her acceptance letter from SVA, in hopes that they could work something out where Lizzy could live with them again and go to school in New York. That is, if they wanted her to stay with them; she didn't want to force herself on her family, especially if they didn't have room for her. Either way, Lizzy had a strong feeling that Lucy and Jude would appreciate her work and the letter much more than the Harrisons did.

Speaking of the Harrisons…Lizzy wondered what they were doing back in Florida right about now. She hadn't spoken to them in days, and on top of that, she had borrowed their car. They were probably freaking out, and gathering a mad, wide-spread search for her. Lizzy speculated whether they'd put two and two together and realized she'd ran off to New York. Mr. Harrison wouldn't be happy when he found out she left his expensive sports car on a random road in Pennsylvania, if and when she contacted them. But at this point, Lizzy didn't care about what the Harrisons' reactions would be. Screw the search party--she was fine. She was in New York, and on her way to see Lucy and Jude again.

"The weather's getting worse." Paul pointed out, tearing Lizzy from her reverie. She gazed out the window of the cab and saw that the snow was coming down harder and much more quickly, creating white-out conditions; the teens could barely see five cars ahead of them. The awful snow storm, combined with the heavy traffic made the trip longer for all of them. Lizzy was getting more anxious by the minute, and Paul was becoming anxious _for her_. The driver, meanwhile, was uneasy about traveling in such terrible weather.

"Shouldn't be much longer." The man reassured them nonetheless. After awhile, the traffic lightened, but the snow didn't let up. The driver took it slow, trying to turn down as many side streets as possible. Finally, he turned onto the street where the apartment building was located, and stopped right in front of the place.

"Thank you," Lizzy said to the taxi driver, paying him for the commute and including a tip because of the holiday. "Merry Christmas." She stuffed the remaining twenty dollar bill into her jeans pocket, and the two teens grabbed their bags before departing from the taxi. They ran from the car into the building, where they stood in the hall to brush a bit of the snow off their clothes. Lizzy had memorized the apartment number, so she and Paul started up the stairs. With each step she took, Lizzy's stomach did excited flip flops, and the grin never left her face.

At the top of the landing, they paused to catch their breath (it was an strenuous trip, what with the lack of sleep and having to carry their bags with them up a great number of staircases.) right outside the door of the correct apartment. As soon as Lizzy was able to compose herself, she stepped up to the door, and after an encouraging nod from Paul, she knocked on it, heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe this was _really_ happening…she was about to reunite with her parents…

The door opened a few short moments later; the two seventeen-year-olds were met with someone unfamiliar--a young red headed woman with a small, sleeping child cradled against her hip. The young mother appeared to be equally as confused as Paul and Lizzy were.

"Can I help you?" she asked Lizzy. The teenage girl held back tears, getting a strange sense of foreboding.

"Yeah…I'm looking for Lucy and Jude Feeny." Lizzy stated, showing the young woman the photograph of her biological parents.

"Sorry," The red head answered. "They don't live here. You must have the wrong address."

"What's going on, Isabelle?" A voice asked from inside the apartment. An older woman with slightly graying red hair--presumably, the young woman's mother--came into view. "Who's at the door?"

"Just two kids," The young woman, Isabelle, informed her. The older woman approached the door. "They're looking for some people."

"Who are you looking for, honey?" Isabelle's mother asked Lizzy. The teenager handed the picture to her.

"Lucy and Jude Feeny," she said. "My parents." The older woman gave her a somewhat puzzled look, but decided not to ask questions as she gave the photo back to the teen.

"They don't live here no more, sweetie," Isabelle's mom admitted. "They moved out awhile ago." Lizzy looked down at her shoes momentarily, fighting back a wave of emotion. She'd thought she was so _close_…but she guessed nothing was ever that easy.

"Okay," Lizzy replied dejectedly. "Thanks…sorry to bother you." Isabelle shut the door, finding herself saddened by the upset look in the young girl's blue eyes. Once the door closed, Lizzy backed away, dropping her bags by the stairs. She slid down to the floor and put her face in her hands. The tears came, and she didn't try to stop them. They'd already gone through so much that this latest obstacle left her overwhelmed.

"This was a mistake," Lizzy wept, her voice slightly muffled. "We shouldn't have come here." Paul immediately let go of his belongings and knelt by his friend's side, hating to see her so unbelievably upset. He ran a comforting hand along her back, trying to calm her down.

"Don't say that," Paul told her softly. "It wasn't a mistake. We'll find them, Lizzy. I promise."

"New York City is _huge_, Paul," she mumbled. "How do you expect us to find them?"

Unbeknownst to the two teens, Isabelle and her mother had heard Lizzy's distressed sobs, and felt bad for them. Isabelle's mother opened up the door; it nearly broke her heart to see the young girl in such a depressing state--and on Christmas Eve, of all days. It was obvious that she was desperate about finding these people.

"I…I might have their new address on record," The kind old woman told them. "I'll go check--wait right here." Lizzy finally looked up, wiping tears from her face. She and Paul waited as patiently as humanly possible for her to return. When she did, she was carrying a small piece of paper, which she handed over to Paul. "Here you go."

"Thank you so much…you don't know how much this means to me." Lizzy said sincerely, her voice still shaking the tiniest bit.

"I think I have some idea," The woman replied. "Merry Christmas, kids." She disappeared into the apartment, and Lizzy picked herself up off the floor, sniffling. Paul passed the paper to her.

"909 Blue Jay Way…Apartment number 64," Lizzy read out loud. "Let's go." They took hold of their things and went down the flights of stairs quickly, Lizzy finding a new sense of determination.

"Liz, twenty dollars isn't enough to get us there." Paul realized as they went out into the snow once again.

"I'm aware of that."

They called a cab and climbed in fast, like two people in the midst of a wild goose chase. That's what it felt like, really. Lizzy told the driver the address, and explained that they only had twenty dollars on them. He said he'd take them as far as he could with that much money, and then promised to give them directions so they could walk the rest of the way. Lizzy was prepared to do so, as long as it got her to her parents.


	12. All You Need is Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

**A/N: Hey, everyone! I revised Chapter 12 because of an inconsistency concerning the first part, where Jude and Lucy are in "Lizzy's" room. Before, I'd written that Jude had painted her name on the door a week before she was born, but obviously that can't be possible because now they're in a completely different apartment. Sorry for the error, guys...and thanks to Eriala for pointing it out to me! P.S.--the next chapter should be up this weekend...**

Jude ran his fingers along the bedroom door, tracing the letters painted there, a million different memories racing through his mind. LIZZY. The name that was still so dear to his and Lucy's hearts was written neatly in bright, red paint. A smiling yellow sun peeking out from fluffy, white clouds--all against a vivid, blue sky--was the background behind Lizzy's name. It was Jude's handiwork; although the bedroom was just a guest room, he'd painted it in hopes that maybe Lizzy would occupy it someday.

Lucy didn't have the heart to stop him. It was nice for her to have a visible reminder of her daughter, and like Jude, she was constantly waiting for the day when she found his letter and came back. To them, the room would always be Lizzy's.

The young artist pushed the door open and found Lucy exactly where he'd thought she would be. She was lying on her side on the bed, staring out the window that was directly across from the bed. Lucy went into this room often, while Jude usually preferred to stay out of there; he hated the way it looked so _empty_. There was nothing but a bed, covered in a large, cerulean blue blanket and pillows--the exact color of Lucy's and Lizzy's eyes--and a small nightstand with a lamp. But it just didn't look right. Nothing would fill that void except their daughter.

Jude ambled in, not bothering to close the door behind himself. He made his way over to the bed, and laid down beside his wife, who had her back turned to him. Jude began running his hands through Lucy's silky, golden hair; she finally turned and rested her head on his chest, draping an arm over him as well. It killed him to see Lucy like this, with a constant sad look in her beautiful, azure eyes--a look that he was pretty sure he carried, too.

"Hey, Jude?" Lucy asked quietly after a long silence had settled between them.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we'll ever see Lizzy again?"

"Maybe," Jude replied. "Whether or not she wants anything to do with us is her decision."

"Do you think she knows about us?"

"I'm sure she does, love," Jude reassured her, running his fingers gently down the length of Lucy's cheek. "I'm gonna take some drawings over to that new magazine company a couple blocks over. Would you like to come along? Get out of here for a little bit…"

"You're going to walk there in the middle of a snow storm?" Lucy inquired. She'd been observing the weather for the past ten minutes, and it had progressively worsened. "On Christmas Eve? Is the place even _open_?"

"Yeah, the guy wanted me to stop in," Jude answered. "It won't take long. You're sure you don't want to come?"

"Sorry. I love you dearly, Jude, but I'd rather stay here, where it's warm." Lucy told him, a weak smile managing to grace her lips.

"All right," Jude sighed, giving her a soft kiss. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon." He left the room and went into his art studio, grabbing the manila folder of the work that he had gathered together to take with him. He crossed the apartment and slid into his boots, and pulled on his coat and a hat. Once he was ready, he exited the apartment, preparing himself to venture out into the blustery, winter storm.

-----------------------------------

The ride was unusually quiet. Neither of the seventeen-year-olds spoke much after talking to the cab driver, and Paul hadn't made any attempts to strike up a conversation with his friend. He figured Lizzy needed some time to collect her thoughts and settle down before she _really_ met her parents. This whole endeavor was starting to take a toll on each of them, and that was becoming more evident. More than anything, Paul just wanted to see his best friend in the company of her family. It wasn't fair that so many obstacles had been thrown at her, especially since she'd wanted this with all of her heart. However, she _did_ keep going, stubborn and determined as always.

Lizzy sat with her forehead against the cold window, watching the cars crawl past them and the delicate snow falling at an alarming rate. The sky was growing darker, indicating that night was steadily approaching. Lizzy had hoped to be with her parents by now, but things hadn't worked out as originally planned. How was she to know that the address wasn't the right one? Or that Lucy and Jude--and most likely, the rest of her family--had moved? It had crushed her spirits immensely to think that she had been so incredibly close, and instead she ended up completely wrong. But here she was, right back on the correct path, thanks to Paul. If he hadn't been there to reassure her that things were going to be okay, she wouldn't have made it this far.

Right now, all she wanted to do was collapse into Jude and Lucy's arms and stay there. She was physically and emotionally worn out; tired of traveling from one place to another. What was worse was that Lizzy once again felt bad about dragging Paul everywhere, especially on Christmas Eve--and knowing that he wouldn't be with his mother for the holiday.

Lizzy suddenly leaned over and kissed Paul lightly on the cheek. Surprised, he looked up and was momentarily lost in her stunning, sapphire eyes. He managed to tear his gaze from them, all the while hoping that a blush hadn't crept onto his cheeks. "What was _that_ for?" he asked, laughing, albeit a bit nervously.

"I realized I never actually thanked you for coming with me…and sticking by me through everything," Lizzy stated. "Although, I cant help but feel a little guilty that you're not spending Christmas with your mom."

"Don't worry about it, Liz. I openly volunteered to go, and my mom knew that you needed me. She understands. I wasn't about to let you go by yourself."

"You're a good friend, Paul."

"I try." Paul said sheepishly with a smirk.

The teens felt the car pull over to the side of the road, where it stopped. Lizzy sighed and handed the twenty dollar bill to the cab driver. He gave them directions to Blue Jay Way, which was apparently several blocks from where they were now. Lizzy thanked the driver, and the two of them picked up their bags before climbing out of the taxi. Hopping up onto the sidewalk, Paul and Lizzy watched forlornly as the taxi drove out of sight, leaving them in the frigid weather. Lizzy slung her backpack onto her shoulders with a frustrated groan.

"Ya know, I'm really getting sick of lugging this shit around."

Paul laughed. "Well, hopefully we won't have to do it for much longer."

"God, _I hope so_," Lizzy agreed. "C'mon. Let's get going."

--------------------------------------

"These are awesome, man." The editor said as he spread Jude's artwork out on the table. He was the editor of a local, independent magazine called _Rain_. _Rain_ showcased the work of artists--both well known and not so well known--all over the city. He'd received Jude's name from one of his friends, and after seeing what the artist had done for a bunch of up-and-coming record labels, he decided Jude's style of art was perfect for his magazine.

"Yeah?" Jude asked, smirking. It was always nice to get praise for his work, especially if he'd put a lot of time and effort into it. However, he was pretty humble about any good comments he received--it was just his nature.

"Totally," The man affirmed. "You mind if I pick out a few, and we can run them in our next issue?"

"No, not at all. Go right ahead."

The editor scanned the different drawings, selecting some of the more abstract pieces of art that were right for this type of magazine. He placed them carefully onto his desk while Jude collected the remaining pictures and slid them back into the folder.

"Okay…well, thanks for comin' in, man. I really appreciate it. I'll give ya a call when I know the next issue is going to be out. We'll be keeping in touch, so keep up the great work."

"All right," Jude said, shaking the man's hand. "Thanks, mate."

"No problem."

Jude walked out of the small building, shivering against the icy wind. For once, the news reports had been right; the weather was getting worse by the hour. If it was at all possible, he could've sworn that the temperature had dropped. He pulled his coat closer to him and started for the apartment building, silently hoping that Lucy had a steaming cup of coffee or hot chocolate waiting for him at home.

------------------------------------------

"This sucks," Paul deliberated out loud as they made their trek through the storm. "No wonder why we live in Florida…I miss the sun."

"Paul," Lizzy groaned. He wasn't making this journey any easier. "Shut up." She laughed.

But he didn't seem to hear her. Either that, or he was ignoring her. "…and the beach…"

"_Paul_."

"…and the damn _warmth_," he continued. "Damn it, I'm freezing my ass off out here."

"You're not alone on that, trust me." Lizzy reminded him. She was keeping a steady pace behind Paul, her head down against the bitter wind. She was able to follow his footprints in the deep snow that covered the sidewalks, although as she trudged on, her sneakers got even more wet. She couldn't exactly think about anything else but the cold and the fact that she was basically frozen to the bone. She'd kill to have some hot soup…or a steaming mug of hot chocolate with those humongous marshmallows. Or _any_ food, for that matter, since she'd become aware of her growling stomach. And maybe a real bed with some fluffy pillows…and warm blankets…dry clothes… Damn it, Paul had _her _thinking, too.

"I think we're almost there." Paul declared. Lizzy didn't say anything in response; she just kept following the tracks in the snow, taking into consideration Paul's word of warning that they were crossing a street now. They were just at the corner when Lizzy stopped paying attention and slammed right into a guy who was going in the same direction they were. He had been moving pretty quickly himself, probably eager to get somewhere warm. Lizzy attempted to look up, but couldn't see much through the snow and whatnot. Apparently, he'd been carrying a folder of papers, all of which fell out onto the wet ground, scattering into the snow once they'd collided.

"Sorry." The man muttered, bending down to pick up the papers. With her cheeks blushing out of embarrassment, Lizzy got down to help. She began to carefully pick up the papers, which she noticed were drawings--very good ones, really.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry." Lizzy apologized, somehow expecting an angry outrage, or at least a profanity or two. She'd heard that although the Big Apple was one of the most wonderful metropolitan tourist destinations, some of the New Yorkers' hospitality wasn't always pleasant. However, this man was nice, and smiled graciously at her once she handed him some of the now slightly soggy drawings.

"It's all right. Horrible weather--not your fault." The man replied, in a surprisingly strong accent. He sounded British. Although, at that point, Lizzy couldn't make sense of much.

"Here," she said, giving him the last of the sketches, which he tucked back into the manila folder. She kept her gaze down, away from the wind, pulling her hoodie tighter to her face. "Sorry…I totally messed up your artwork…"

He chuckled. "It's fine, really. No harm done." he reassured her. "Happy Holidays." The man called as an afterthought, before continuing swiftly down the snowy road. Paul shook his head and waited for Lizzy to catch up.

"Real _smooth_," he said sarcastically, as they started walking again. Paul expected a smartass remark from his best friend in the defense of her klutziness, but got nothing. For a moment, he was afraid that he had hurt her feelings. "Oh, come on, Liz--" He turned to address her, and found that she wasn't beside him. Confused, he turned all the way around to see that she was standing several feet back; stopped completely in her tracks.

"Lizzy…what's wrong?" Paul questioned, approaching his best friend, concern in his voice. When she didn't answer, he shook her arm gently. She was just staring ahead, shocked. "Liz? What is it?"

Lizzy fought the sudden urge to smack herself in the forehead. "How could I be so _stupid_?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that bad. So, you ran into the guy? Who cares? It was an accident."

"No…_no_," Lizzy answered, shaking her head slowly, "Paul, you don't understand…that man…he…he had an accent." Paul gave her a 'no duh' look.

"_Yes_, Elizabeth. Very good," he said cynically. "Thanks so much for stating the obvious."

Lizzy glared and seized Paul's arms. "His accent--he was _clearly_ from Liverpool."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything…"

"The guy was an _artist_, Paul," Lizzy's eyes lit up with excitement. "It was my dad--it had to be! C'mon…we gotta follow him!" She grabbed hold of Paul's arm and began dragging him down the street. They proceeded to follow the man whom Lizzy had perceived as her father to the apartment building, which was on the other side of the street. While on the opposite side of the road, they watched as he neared the steps. Lizzy dropped her bag by Paul's feet, suddenly getting a brilliant idea. She crossed the street as the artist started to ascend the steps slowly, being cautious of the ice. Lizzy paused on the sidewalk, took a deep breath, hoped that she was right, and confidently sung the lullaby that had been written at the end of Jude's letter. The words she had memorized, and the melody she had remembered from her past.

"_There's nothing you can do that can't be done  
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung  
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game  
It's easy…_"

Her voice projected well over the wind, as beautiful and clear as day. The artist was just about to reach for the door handle when he stopped. He didn't turn around, but he paused to listen. Lizzy continued singing, still praying that she wasn't making a complete idiot out of herself.

"_There's nothing you can make that can't me made  
No one you can save that can't be saved  
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time  
It's easy…_"

All of a sudden, he turned around to face her. An odd look of surprise passed over his features.

"_All you need is love_." He answered, singing. Lizzy's stomach started doing flip flops again. She recognized the voice--she _knew _she recognized that voice. It was _really_ him--Jude Feeny--her father. There wasn't a single doubt in her mind. Jude came down the steps, drawing closer to Lizzy, and their voices blended together, singing the familiar song.

"_All you need is love  
All you need is love, love  
Love is all you need._"

They stared at each other, standing on the sidewalk, flakes of snow covering them. Neither one knew what to do, or quite how to react--Lizzy wondered, briefly, what Paul was thinking as he was watching this. The artist took another slightly hesitant step toward her, studying her from head to toe. Jude could hardly believe that this teenager standing before him was his baby girl--his precious Lizzy. It seemed next to impossible, but it was her. He was absolutely sure of it. Her striking, sapphire blue eyes mirrored Lucy's perfectly. She was wearing _his_ hat, and the strawberry pendant was around her neck. This was his child, all grown up.

Jude reached out to hold onto her shoulders. "Lizzy?" he managed to ask, searching the teenager's vividly blue eyes once more. A smile tugged at the corner of Lizzy's mouth, unshed tears burning in the corners of her eyes. She nodded. Jude moved his hands, placing them on either side of his daughter's face, stroking her flushed cheeks with his thumbs. It was silly, but he wanted to make sure she was there--that he wasn't just imagining this. "My God…it's really _you_."

Lizzy nodded again, not finding the right words to say. Tears began making trails down her face. "You have no idea what it took for me to get to you." She sobbed. Jude immediately pulled her into the tightest embrace he could manage, placing kisses on top of her head and onto her cheeks as _he_ started crying. Lizzy held onto her father tightly, feeling safe, like she was finally _home_. The smell of charcoal and cigarettes, and the sound of his voice was enough to comfort her.

Jude broke their hug a good two minutes later, and put his hands on her shoulders again. "I've missed you terribly…I-I was always waiting for the day when you'd come back. I knew you would," He told her, giving her another hug. "I love you so much, Lizzy."

"I love you, too, Dad." Lizzy wept, voice shaking. Jude grinned at the thought that he had Lizzy around to call him _Dad_ again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that. He placed an arm around his daughter's shoulders, eager to share the wonderful news with Lucy and the rest of the family.

"Come on…let's get you inside," he told her. "You can bring your mate along with you as well." Lizzy smiled, and gestured for Paul to come over. He did so, carrying both of their bags, offering to carry Lizzy's backpack the rest of the way. Lizzy walked beside Jude up to the apartment--apartment number 64; they _did _have the right place this time. Lizzy knew that she wasn't making this up…she was _actually_ here…this was _really_ happening. Her dad was here with her, and she was about to see her mother again…

Jude motioned for Lizzy to stay in the hall until he motioned for her to come in. She nodded, and Jude entered the apartment, leaving the door slightly open. He saw Lucy sitting on the couch in the living room with two other guests, which he soon discerned as Prudence and Rita--back from their vacation in California. Perfect timing.

"Oh, Jude, you're back," Lucy said brightly. "Prudence and Rita just got in while you were gone…" She trailed off, seeing her husband's slightly bloodshot eyes, and a grin on his face that hadn't fully been there in what seemed like an eternity. "What's the matter?"

"Well, it just so happens that I brought with me a very large, early Christmas present." he beamed.

Lucy stood, eyebrow raised in confusion. Prudence and Rita looked on, curious to see what this "Christmas present" could possibly be. Jude signaled to Lizzy, and she stepped inside, in front of her father. Lucy stared, mouth open, taken aback by the teenager's presence. She clapped a trembling hand to her mouth, tears flooding her vision.

"Lizzy…" Lucy cried. The seventeen-year-old went to her mother, practically jumping into her arms. The two of them embraced, sliding to their knees on the floor. Lucy was bawling, running her hands through her daughter's dark tresses. Lizzy noted how good it felt to be in her mother's arms again. "I can't believe…Jude, how did you…?"

"We found each other on the street," he answered, smiling as he watched the scene. Prudence and Rita were equally as delighted to see the two parents so happy, and the family reunited at last. Paul watched sort of awkwardly from the doorway, a smirk on his face. "She remembered the song, Luce."

"I needed to find you," Lizzy stated, her words breaking somewhat. "It sounds crazy, but I always knew I belonged somewhere else."

"That's not crazy at all, sweetheart," Prudence put in. "You remembered us."

Lucy pulled away, and surveyed her now teenage daughter, grabbing hold of her hand. "Look at you…" she wept. "My baby's all grown up." Lizzy nodded, attempting to brush away her own tears. "Oh, God…Jude, I can't believe this…"

"I know," Jude agreed. "I'm going to get Max…and Sadie and JoJo…and everyone…" He was out the door in seconds flat to spread the good news, all the while thinking that this was definitely the best Christmas Eve he'd ever had.


	13. Christmas Time Is Here Again

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. Don't worry, this fic is far from over, so keep reading!**

The Carrigan apartment was in utter chaos. Max was busy trying to get his son to get ready for bed, using the excuse that Santa _would not come _unless little Max cooperated. But Max Jr. was simply not in the mood to cooperate; he was too preoccupied with jumping up and down on his bed and annoying the hell out of his sister. Michelle and Max's rooms were directly next to each other, so they shared a wall. Max's bed was up against that common wall, so he'd jump on the bed and pound his fists into the wall at the same time. Michelle added on to the noise by yelling at her younger sibling, and Valerie contributed to it by scolding both of their kids, telling them to just _settle down_. It was enough to give Max a major headache--which is one thing he didn't need right now.

"Daaad…tell Max to stop!" Michelle hollered.

"Max, cut it out--you're annoying your sister," Valerie told her son, coming to her husband's aid. Max Sr. was leaning against the doorframe of their son's bedroom, massaging his temples. He'd perked up a bit after Lucy had talked to him yesterday, but he'd been in bed all day today with what appeared to be an on-coming cold. "Michelle, please stop yelling and let me handle this."

Michelle rolled her eyes and disappeared into her room, slamming the door closed. Max flinched, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Valerie looked at Max sympathetically, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Go sit down," she said quietly. "I'll take care of it."

"You sure?"

"Hon, no offense, but you look like hell. Go and lay down on the couch."

"Thanks _a lot_, Val." Max replied a bit sarcastically. He obeyed his wife's orders and sauntered down the hall to the living room. He flicked on the television and plopped down very unceremoniously onto the couch. Max didn't pay too much attention to what program was on; he was too busy thinking about how shitty he felt. His head was now throbbing, and he just felt tired and achy. It wasn't a very pleasant way to spend the Christmas holiday.

Max slowly drifted off, letting the sounds of little Max and Valerie arguing fade into the distance. He was almost fully asleep when he heard a tremendous series of knocks on the front door. It sounded as if the person on the other side was set on breaking the damn thing down. He shot up, muttering a string of harsh curse words under his breath. He managed to get himself into a sitting position and off the couch. The knocking did not cease as he made his way over to the door.

"All right! _All Right_! Hold on…I'm _coming_, damn it." Max bellowed. He finally wrenched the door open, only to find his brother-in-law, Jude, standing there with a huge grin on his face. He looked extremely happy about something. "Jude, man, what the hell's goin' on?"

"Max…you're not gonna believe it, mate," Jude said, slightly out of breath, "It's Lizzy."

"_What_?" Max asked as Valerie entered the room to see what all the commotion was about. She'd been able to get little Max to settle down, but then she'd heard the knocking and thought that there was some sort of emergency. She approached Max with a look of confusion on her face--she recalled Max telling her about his niece, Elizabeth, once before…

"Lizzy's here. She's down in our apartment." Jude explained.

Max stared at his friend, trying to process this information. "Seriously? She's…she's there? Now?"

Jude nodded. "_Yeah_," he said. "Why would I _lie _to you about something like this?"

Max turned to Valerie. "Val, I'm--I gotta go…" He was at a loss for words, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Jude and Lucy's apartment down the hall. Valerie smiled.

"Go, Max." she laughed.

Max grabbed a hold of the sleeve of Jude's coat and the two of them left, sprinting down the hall to the apartment. When they arrived, Max was the first through the doorway. Paul had moved out of the way, and was now standing in the living room quietly, letting his friend reunite with her long-lost family members. For Paul, it was both interesting and moving to watch.

Max instantly spotted his niece, standing with Lucy, Prudence and Rita; Prudence appeared to be introducing Lizzy to Rita. Max couldn't even begin to grasp how much his little niece had changed--she was a young woman now. Lizzy broke from the conversation with her mother and aunts to see her uncle standing in the doorway. Jude had left to go get Sadie and JoJo.

Lizzy grinned. "Uncle Max!" She ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He hugged her tightly--she felt her feet lift off from the floor for a moment; Max finding strength within his tired body to give her a proper welcome--a smile on his face and a brightness in his eyes that hadn't been there for a very long time. He pulled his niece away from him in order to get a good look at her.

"Wow," was all he could say. "This is…this is amazing. I mean…you're all grown up and lookin' wicked cool." Lizzy laughed. Lucy looked on with tears sparkling in her eyes; she hadn't seen her brother this excited over something since his own children were born. It was also good to see him in a better mood in comparison to yesterday. Max beamed at his niece, ruffling her hair a bit as Jude, Sadie, JoJo, Jimi and Eleanor entered. Valerie, Max Jr. and Michelle had also come to meet the newcomer.

Sadie gasped once she caught sight of Lizzy, and immediately came up to her, giving her a short hug. "Well, what do ya know? It _was_ you at the concert after all. I knew I recognized you, sweet pea." Lizzy was sorry that she hadn't recognized Sadie or JoJo that night, since it wasn't until after the fact that she learned about her adoption.

Meanwhile, as Lizzy was saying hello to JoJo, the rest of the kids were standing there awkwardly. They had heard their parents talk about Lucy and Jude's only child, but not in a lot of detail. They'd obviously never had the pleasure of her acquaintance, and vice versa. Finally, Max did the honors of introducing everyone. He stepped aside and put an arm around Valerie's waist, saying, "Lizzy, this is my wife and your aunt, Valerie," The two of them shook hands. "And these are your cousins, Michelle and Max." Lizzy gave them a small wave and a grin. Max the gestured to Sadie and JoJo's children. "This is Jimi, and his younger sister, Eleanor." Jimi, being the gentleman, stepped forward and shook hands with his older cousin, while Eleanor offered a somewhat timid smile.

"It's very nice to meet you all," Lizzy said. She motioned for Paul to join her, and he did so after dropping their bags onto the floor. Once Paul was at her side, she did her own introduction. "Everyone, this is my friend, Paul. Paul, this is my family." She couldn't help but beam at the group of people surrounding her. She felt as though she'd found somewhere to belong. She felt like she was finally _home_.

--------------------------

The family stayed in Lucy and Jude's apartment, gathered in the living room, until well after midnight. They laughed, talked and enjoyed each other's company, asking Lizzy a million different questions about herself. What her favorite color was, what music she liked, what Florida was like, what her hobbies were.

"Art." she'd said in reply. Lucy shared an excited glance with Jude, whose grin got just a bit wider. So, she _had_ taken after them after all…it was a comforting thought.

"Are ya any good?" Max had asked, in a sort of joking manner.

"Of course she's good," Sadie stated matter-of-factly. "She _is_ Jude's child." At that point, Lizzy had gotten up to dig through her belongings. She pulled out her portfolio of artwork and handed it to Sadie. Sadie went through them, and picked out her favorite, holding it up for Max to see. "I rest my case." she told him smugly, and proceeded to pass around the artwork for everyone else to see.

"So, you kids came here by yourselves?" JoJo inquired, curious.

"Yeah…" Lizzy said, shifting nervously.

"Let's just say it was a _long _trip." Paul added.

"Well, let's hear all about your adventure, then." Prudence encouraged. Lizzy looked at Paul, and launched reluctantly into the story, conveniently leaving out the part where she borrowed the Harrisons' car without permission and ran away without their knowledge. (She would explain the whole situation later, to her parents.) Lizzy told them about Sgt. Pepper and his band--Sadie and JoJo were thrilled to hear that the teens had met them--and finally colliding with Jude on the street.

An hour or so after, the family slowly filtered out and went back to their own apartments, promising to see Lucy, Jude, Lizzy and Paul at Max and Valerie's place tomorrow afternoon for their Christmas party. Once Jude and Lucy saw everyone out the door, they sat down onto the couch on either side of their daughter, while Paul settled himself into a chair.

"It's so good to have you back." Lucy mused, kissing Lizzy on the top of her head.

"It's nice to finally be here again," Lizzy said sincerely. "At the rate Paul and I were going, I almost thought it would never happen."

"But it did," Jude said. "and that's all that matters."

--------------------------------

Lizzy spent the night in "her" room, while Paul agreed to sleep on the couch in the living room. She was surprised to find that they'd technically set a room aside for her, expecting her to return home at some point. (She was also surprised to see that her parents had not had any other children after her.) It was nice for Lizzy and Paul to get some rest in a soft, stable, non-cramped space under warm blankets and comfortable pillows. It was the best sleep they'd had in a few days. For Jude and Lucy, it was nice to see that guest room occupied by their own daughter. They could sleep soundly, knowing that she was finally under the same roof.

Christmas morning, Lizzy slept in until ten-thirty. She awoke feeling revived and ready to celebrate the holiday with her family. She rolled out of bed and went to the window, where she saw the road below covered in a good two feet of snow. It had stopped snowing as hard; now the flakes were floating down slowly, almost gracefully. What few trees there were, their bare branches were coated in ice. It was quite a beautiful sight, when you weren't outside walking through it.

The seventeen-year-old padded out of her room and down the hall to living room, where Lucy and Jude were talking to Paul while enjoying what appeared to be a steaming mug of either coffee or hot chocolate. She figured Paul was the one with the hot chocolate, since he wasn't much of a coffee person.

"Hey you," Lucy said, grinning. She couldn't help but crack a smile whenever her daughter was around. It was just so surreal that she was here with them. "Nice of you to join us. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Lizzy answered, plopping down in between her parents. She gave them each a kiss. "I hope you weren't telling them anything embarrassing about me." She said to Paul.

Paul shrugged. "Nah, nothing too bad." Jude got up from his seat, muttering something about "being right back" before departing to his art studio. Lucy shared a slightly confused glance with Lizzy, both wondering what he was up to. Jude returned a short minute later, carrying with him a small package. He sat back down and handed it to Lizzy.

"Happy Christmas." he said cheerfully.

"You didn't have to get me anything," Lizzy told him. "Being here is a present in itself."

"Ah, it's all right. I wanted you to have it anyway." Jude reassured her. Lizzy glanced down at the package, wrapped in newspaper. She tore it off to reveal one of her father's charcoal drawings. It was the one of Lizzy, smiling and covered in paint. He'd secured it to a piece of cardboard in order to wrap it--a job he'd done hastily early this morning when he realized Lizzy wouldn't have any presents to open on Christmas.

"It's incredible," Lizzy said, admiring Jude's work. She gave him a hug. "Thank you."

The rest of the morning was spent getting ready for the party at Valerie and Max's apartment. Lizzy and Paul were able to take a real shower, and change into some new clothes--they actually looked presentable. When they arrived at the Carrigans', Lizzy immediately felt comfortable, surrounded by family again. It was a great atmosphere to be a part of; there was a lot of love radiating from everyone.

The celebration was laid back, compared to other holidays Lizzy had spent with the Harrisons, where various family members usually talked about business, dining on sophisticated, fancy-looking foods. The teen generally spent those parties avoiding snobby "relatives" she didn't care for, hiding in an unoccupied room with her sketchbook and a pencil. Here, she laughed and talked with her family members, listening to her uncle Max's jokes or Sadie and JoJo's tales about life on road, traveling with their band. She ate foods that she could actually _recognize_, and spoke openly about her passion for art. She could spend time with Paul and not worry about anyone judging him.

Lizzy watched as her younger cousins tore open presents, little Max putting the colorful wrapping paper in a pile to jump into. She also saw Prudence sneak a few cookies for Michelle, Eleanor, and even Lizzy herself. Valerie had her camera out the entire time, snapping pictures of everyone to commemorate the holiday. Lizzy realized, as she took in her surroundings, that she hadn't been quite this happy--really, _truly_ happy--in awhile.

The group of adults felt the same way. Everything seemed so much more cheerful now that they were _really_ all together again. Lucy and Jude were back to their old selves, Max was celebrating, his mind now taken off the night terrors and flashbacks. And Valerie was thrilled to see her husband telling jokes and acting immature again, as was everyone else. It was just good to see everyone thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Toward the end of the night, JoJo pulled out his guitar that he had made sure to bring along and played some of the standard Christmas carols while they sat around the living room. Some of the adults had had too much to drink (it wasn't as if they had to drive anywhere) and got into it a bit too enthusiastically, but it was fun to watch. JoJo then went into a song that apparently they had made up two years ago and as another one of their traditions, they always ended the party with it. Lizzy didn't know the song, but as everyone sang, she and Paul were able to join in because the song was _extremely_ simple and kind of random. Soon, their voices blended together, singing the tune with a lot of energy:

"_Christmas time is here again  
Christmas time is here again  
Christmas time is here again  
Christmas time is here again_

_Ain't been round since you know when  
Christmas time is here again…_"

"…_O-U-T spells "out"…_" Max added, slightly drunk and obviously enjoying himself immensely. It was the most random part of the song, but Max made it that much more hilarious by yelling it each time in a different accent or tone of voice. They sang the song until they got all tired out and it became too repetitive and annoying. They were all pretty sure that on some level, they were annoying the neighbors, but not a single person cared.

"_Christmas time is here again  
Christmas time is here again  
Christmas time is here again  
Christmas time is here again…_"


	14. I've Just Seen A Face

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

**A/N: As always, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! Just so you know, it might take longer for me to update because I'm no longer on break from school. But I will try my hardest to get chapters written and posted as fast as I can. **

Lucy and Valerie were in the kitchen the next day, talking while Paul sat at the table, conversing whenever one of the two women asked him a question. Even without Lizzy around, he could talk to her family members and not feel awkward about it; they were all extremely friendly and welcoming.

It was just a little past one in the afternoon; Val brought Michelle and little Max over so her husband Max could get some peace and quiet. He was suffering from a wicked hangover--a result of yesterday's celebrations. On top of that, his cold had finally hit him with full force. Needless to say, he wasn't in a very good mood.

Now, Michelle and Max were in the living room; Max was playing with some kind of action figures, and Michelle was flipping through the channels on the TV. Everything was pretty much quiet when Lizzy finally padded into the kitchen, moving slowly, face pale and eyes glassy. She was still in her pajamas, and clearly had no intention of changing for the day.

It was obvious that lack of sleep and being subjected to long amounts of time in the frigid weather had caught up to her. Either that, or she got the cold from Max. The teenager sniffled and sat down at the table, where she went into a sneezing fit, then let out an annoyed groan. Lucy, seeing the state that her daughter was in, immediately moved from where she'd been leaning against the counter, an expression of sympathy on her features. Her maternal instincts instantly kicked in; she pressed her palm to Lizzy's forehead to see if she had a fever. Lizzy, meanwhile, found her mother's cool palm a relief against her overheated skin.

"You're burning up." Lizzy said, the look of sympathy turning to one of worry. She went into the cupboard over the sink and began delving through its contents for the cold medicine.

"Your uncle Max is sick, too." Val told Lizzy. The teen groaned again and laid her head down on her arms, which were folded on top of the table.

"Great," Lizzy muttered, her voice muffled. "Tell him I said thank you." Lucy shook her head at her daughter's sarcasm and set the pill in front of her with a glass of water. She took the medicine willingly, hoping it would take effect soon. Her head was congested and throbbing, she couldn't breathe through her nose, she had the chills, and her throat was all scratchy.

"Hey, Luce, you know what? How 'bout we make some soup for Lizzy and Max?" Val suggested suddenly.

"Sure," Lucy agreed. They didn't have anything to do anyway. Some hot soup would be good for everyone, not just the two who were sick. It was a chilly day outside, and it felt very drafty in the apartment, too. The windows were always drafty in the winter, no matter what they did to reduce the amount of wind that slipped through the cracks. "Lizzy, you should go lay down…keep yourself warm. If you need extra blankets or anything just call, okay?"

Lizzy didn't object to that at all. She nodded and got up, moving at a snail's pace back to her bedroom. Paul followed her, making sure she made it to the room okay, like the good friend that he was. He stood by the doorway, watching as Lizzy climbed into bed and practically buried herself in the blankets, shuddering. She wasn't quite tired enough to go back to sleep, so she just sat there. After a few minutes, she noticed that Paul was still standing far away from where she was, and laughed.

"Ya know, you _can _sit over here," she smirked. "I'll try not to spread my germs."

"Oh, how _kind_ of you." Paul replied, walking to the bed. Hesitantly, he sat at the edge of it, careful not to take up too much space. The two teens sat quietly, both of them staring off into space. Paul was the one to break the silence. "So…can I, umm, get you anything?"

Lizzy thought for a moment. "I dunno. I'm bored. If you have a solution to said boredom, that would be nice."

"I think I have a pack of cards in my bag…" Paul stated.

"That would work."

"Okay," Paul said, getting to his feet. "I'll be right back…"

"Don't worry, I don't exactly plan on moving from this spot." Lizzy smirked. Paul disappeared down the hall to get the cards from his bag, which he kept under the couch in the living room. When he returned, Lizzy had managed to get herself into a sitting position (with a few pillows propped up behind her back) and Paul sat across from her on the bed. He opened up the pack of cards--the pack was worn with age and some of the cards were bent, but neither cared--and shuffled them around, using some fancy methods his mom had taught him.

Once they decided on a game, he dealt the cards and they began. They ended up playing a variety of games for a good two hours, with Lucy popping in now and then to check on Lizzy. Lizzy didn't mind, even when her mom asked the same questions--Are you all right? Do you need any more medicine? Is there anything I can get you?--over and over again; she knew her mom was just enthusiastic about taking care of her. It was something that she hadn't been able to do in well over a decade.

Jude came in to see Lizzy while the two teens were in the middle of their final round of 'War'. He shuffled in quietly, watching the two of them playing for a bit until Lizzy looked up and noticed he'd walked in.

"Hey," she said, smiling. "Haven't seen you all day. Where've ya been, stranger?"

"Just working on a few things in the studio." Jude told her. She spotted the paint splatters on his clothes and nodded.

"Your mum said you were feelin' a bit under the weather…it's probably not how you wanted to spend your time in New York."

Lizzy shrugged. "Not really. I guess I'm just not used to the cold weather here."

Just then, Valerie poked her head into the room. "Hey, Paul? You think you could help me out for a minute?" she asked.

"Yeah. No problem." Paul said, and followed Val out of the room. Lizzy scooped up the cards and started shoved them back into the box; she was bored of playing, and now felt in a drawing mood.

"Dad?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Can you grab my sketchbook for me? It's over in my bag."

Jude crossed the small distance from where he was currently standing to where Lizzy's bag was sitting on the floor. He opened it up, pulled out the sketchbook, and rifled through the bag for a pencil until he found one. As he was bringing it over to Lizzy, a folded up piece of paper slipped from the pages and fell to the floor. Jude handed the sketchpad and pencil to his daughter before bending down to pick up the stray piece of paper. He went to give it to Lizzy when she told him to open it. As soon as it had fallen, Lizzy knew exactly what it was. Jude gave her a quizzical glance, and unfolded it, finding that the paper was, in fact, a letter--a letter from a college. And not just any college. The School of Visual Arts, which Jude knew was located in Manhattan.

"Well, what have we got here?" Jude asked with a smirk. "You want to study art, yeah? Good for you. I never got the chance. Me mum needed me to bring money into the house, so I never went to college. You should get that opportunity--you're a great artist."

"I think you're slightly responsible for that." Lizzy laughed. Jude shrugged, and set the letter on the nightstand. He threw a cautious glance in the direction of the doorway, and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"So, this guy Paul…" he started, lopsided grin on his face.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Is he a…umm, _boyfriend_ of yours?"

Lizzy held back a snort. "No," she answered. "He's just a friend…who happens to be a boy."

Jude laughed. "Is that so? Well, you two seem awfully close."

Lizzy shook her head, dismissing her father's assumptions about her relationship with Paul. "We're best friends. We have been since we were kids," she explained. "He's practically my brother."

"I'll take your word for it, then," Jude said, standing. "Feel better, Lizzy." He told her before leaving the room. Once he was gone, Lizzy shook her head, smirking. She couldn't believe he'd assumed such a thing. She guessed he was just doing his job as a father when it came to his daughter and boys, and left it at that.

Lizzy was about to open her sketchbook when Paul entered, saying that the soup was ready. He then told Lizzy that her mother wanted to know if she wanted to eat it in her room or the kitchen. Lizzy chose to eat in the kitchen with the rest of her family, because she could no longer tolerate lying in bed. As Lizzy joined everyone in the kitchen, Max suddenly walked into the apartment.

"We're all outta cold medicine." he announced glumly. He didn't look much better than Lizzy did. Max grumbled something about no one paying attention to him and followed the heavenly aroma of homemade food into the kitchen. He pushed his way though the small crowd in the even smaller room and peered into the pot to see a steaming abundance of chicken noodle soup. "You made homemade soup and didn't _bother _to tell me?"

"I _was _going to bring some over, _dear_." Valerie stated, a bit sarcastically. Max grabbed a bowl and a spoon and scooped out a large portion for himself. He went over to the table where Lizzy, Paul, Michelle and Max Jr. were sitting and squeezed in a seat in between Lizzy and little Max, while the rest of the adults stood.

"So, you're sick, too?" Max asked Lizzy, once he noticed. Lizzy simply nodded, holding in a sarcastic comment about how obvious it was that she wasn't feeling well. "It's not so bad, really."

Lizzy looked at her uncle like he was crazy. "What are you talking about? I _hate_ it."

"Nah, see…what you do is--" Max lowered his voice dramatically before continuing, "You milk it as long as possible. You get everyone to obey your every beck and call, and you don't have to do shit. It's great."

Max hadn't realized that Valerie had heard every word he'd said. "Don't listen to him, Lizzy," she said. "He's damn _lazy_, that's what he is."

"I love you, too, _honey_." Max replied cynically.

The rest of the meal was filled with Max making sarcastic comments, Valerie threatening to smack her husband with a dishtowel, and a lot of conversation. After everyone finished, Val helped Lucy do the dishes while Jude, Max and Paul went to the living room, since Max Jr. had roped all the guys into playing some kind of game involving his action figures with him. Lizzy, meanwhile, went back into her room to draw. She curled up in a blanket, sat up with the pillows behind her, and grabbed her sketchbook and pencil.

Lizzy opened up her sketchbook, searching for a clean page. While flipping through the pages, Lizzy came across the last sketch--one that wasn't hers. It was Paul's, from when he had used drawing as a way to keep himself occupied during their road trip. Surprisingly, it wasn't a doodle or a stupid cartoon, or some sad attempt at capturing the scenery they'd happened to pass by at that moment. It wasn't half bad for someone who claimed he was not an artist. It was a rough sketch, but not entirely unrecognizable. It was a profile of a face. Long, dark hair, gently curved lips, and beautiful eyes.

The drawing, Lizzy slowly realized, was of herself.


	15. Come Together

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize.**

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Sorry for such a long wait...I was extremely busy this week. Enjoy the new chapter!**

Two days later, Lizzy was healthy again; she had color in her face, her eyes carried their usual vibrancy, and she was full of energy. She was glad to be feeling better--lying in bed all day, although it was relaxing, became extremely boring after awhile. She wanted to be up and around, spending time with her family while her time here in New York lasted. Lizzy figured that she would have to contact the Harrisons sooner or later, and that would mean returning to Florida. She _did_ miss a few things, like the beach and Mr. Henderson's art class, but she would miss staying in the city more. However, she could go on ignoring her life there. The Harrisons were most likely flipping out, and organizing a full-blown investigation into her sudden "disappearance". Lizzy thought it was best to give them a call today--and get it over with quick.

Lizzy ambled out of her room and started for the kitchen. Paul was still asleep on the couch, considering it was only 9:30 in the morning. Lucy had gone out with Prudence and Rita, and Jude was busy dropping off more artwork to the editor of the magazine down the road. The apartment was absolutely quiet for now. Lizzy took the phone off the receiver that was tacked up onto the wall and dialed a long distance call to the Harrisons' house in Florida. She didn't want to be responsible for causing a huge phone bill, so she was going to make it as short as she could. Unfortunately, no one picked up after several rings, and the answering machine clicked on. Lizzy proceeded to leave a message, trying to explain everything that needed to be explained quickly.

"Hey, Mo--Maggie and Charlie," she said. She stumbled a bit, hesitantly, finding it weird to call them 'Mom' and 'Dad' anymore. "It's me, Lizzy." She continued, while wrapping the phone cord around her finger nervously. She was silently bracing herself for someone to pick up and go off on her. "I…I know I should've called sooner, but things were really hectic. I just wanted to tell you that I'm in New York City, and I'm staying with Lucy and Jude Feeny--my parents. I'm safe and in one piece, so don't worry, 'cause I have a feeling that you're freaking out…umm…see you soon. Bye." Lizzy hung up, hoping that they would get the message.

She moved over to the cupboards and grabbed a box of Cap'n Crunch and a bowl. After setting them on the kitchen table, she pulled a spoon from one of the drawers, and went to go get milk from the fridge. She was just sitting down at the table when Paul sauntered into the kitchen, still sort of asleep. His shaggy, dirty blond hair was disheveled, sticking up in some spots, and he was slowly getting his green eyes to fully open.

"Hey," Paul muttered, plopping down in a chair at the table. "I see you're feeling better." He observed, watching as she made herself breakfast. He grabbed the box of cereal and grabbed a handful of it, which he began eating. Lizzy threw him an amused smirk and set a bowl and a spoon in front of him.

"I called the Harrisons," she stated once she sat down. "No one picked up, so I left a lengthy message with a quick explanation."

"That's good," Paul replied. "They probably shit their pants once they realized you were gone--_with_ Charlie's car, no less. What _are_ you going to do about the car, anyway?"

Lizzy shrugged indifferently. "I haven't really thought about a plan yet," she admitted. "I still have the keys, but I doubt the car is where we left it."

"Charlie is going to kill you."

"Most likely."

"And…you don't care?"

"No, not really," Lizzy smirked. "I did what I had to do. Just be prepared--I'll probably be grounded for awhile when we get back to Florida."

Just then, the front door to the apartment opened and Jude walked in, throwing his coat over the back of a chair. He heard the two teens talking in the kitchen and entered.

"Good morning," he greeted. "Feelin' better, Lizzy?"

"Very much, yes."

"So what're the two of you up to today?"

He received a simultaneous shrug from both of them. Then, Lizzy spoke. "Oh, yeah, I wanted to ask you if I could borrow some paint."

"Yeah, of course," Jude said. "Use whatever you want--you don't have to ask."

"Just being polite," Lizzy smiled. "I know some artists get very…_territorial_ over their creative spaces."

"Sometimes I do," he answered. "But, fortunately, you caught me on a good day." Jude started to walk out of the kitchen when he turned around and addressed Lizzy again. "I'll be in the studio…just come in and take what ya need."

"Okay, thanks."

Once Jude left, Paul shot Lizzy a puzzled look. "What do you need paint for?"

"You'll see."

--------------------------------

Paul watched as Lizzy spread out a few large garbage bags on the floor near the wall across from the foot of the bed in her room. There was an array of paint and different sized brushes sitting there as well. Lizzy had thrown on one of Jude's old shirts (one already covered with paint) to protect her clothes, and had tossed her hair up in a messy ponytail. She was intent on painting a mural on the wall; she hoped to paint something on each of the walls, eventually. She couldn't stand having it white--it was plain and boring. It just wasn't _her_. It needed some color, some excitement besides the beautiful cerulean sheets on the bed. Lizzy didn't want to live in a boring room--that is, if her parents and the Harrisons worked something out where she _could_ live in New York. It all depended on whether they actually wanted Lizzy to live with them, and if the Harrisons agreed to give her up. Judging from her surprise visit, things looked optimistic.

"Mind if I watch?" Paul asked while Lizzy stood a few feet from the wall, hands on her hips, staring at the large "canvas" in front of her. "I don't want to be responsible for screwing up your--" Paul searched for a phrase, and when he found the correct terminology, he said it while doing air quotations with his fingers. "…_creative flow_."

Lizzy laughed. "You're fine," she said. "Take a seat on the bed." Paul did so, and continued to observe the young artist.

"Have any idea what you're going to paint?"

"Mmm…kind of." Lizzy stepped onto the spread out garbage bags and knelt down, taking up a brush. She dipped it in a container of blue paint, and began working. Paul studied her, intrigued. She worked slowly, carefully. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand; everything around her faded away, and in her mind she was alone with a blank wall and paint. With each stroke of the bush, every line was meticulously drawn.

As time passed, Paul started to recognize what she was trying to capture. It was the beach--the one they frequently visited back in Florida. Lizzy was almost finished with the water; a mix of blues and some specks of white, to give the illusion that the waves were crashing into the shore. She could picture it clearly in her mind, and all the memories that accompanied that beach. Splashing through the water, making sand castles (something the two of them did primarily when they were younger), skipping stones, going for walks, swimming with their clothes still _on_. Currently, she was working on the sand; the warm, soft sand that she loved to dig her toes into.

Lizzy took a break and sat back, propping herself up with her hands. "Looks awesome." Paul commented. She tilted her head to the side and looked at it.

"Think so?" she asked uncertainly. One thing Paul always noticed about Lizzy was that _she_ was her toughest critic.

"Yeah. Definitely."

There was a sudden knock on the door that caused both of the teens to jump. Their attention turned to where the unexpected noise had come from; they saw Lucy standing there. She had opened the door up and was standing just inside the room. There was an odd look on her face.

"Hey, Mom," Lizzy greeted, smiling. "I hope you don't mind what I did to the wall--I just thought the room needed some color."

"It's fine with me." Lucy said, and threw a cautious glance down the hallway.

"When did you get home?"

"A little while ago," she stated. "Your father told me you were working, and I didn't want to interrupt."

Lizzy noticed the slightly worried look on her mother's face. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Umm, Lizzy," Lucy said slowly, "Maggie and Charlie Harrison are here."

Lizzy immediately froze. She couldn't process that information right away, but when she finally did, she shared a panicked glance with Paul. Lizzy knew she was in _a lot _of trouble. She was going to get the lecture of a lifetime, and probably a severe grounding that would last until she was at least thirty. To add onto her concerns (about getting in trouble for fleeing to New York and borrowing Mr. Harrison's car), she hadn't explained to Lucy and Jude that she _ran away _to see them. As far as they knew, she had come to New York with the Harrisons' consent. So, to sum it all up, Lizzy was in a shitload of trouble.

The two teenagers followed Lucy to the living room, with Paul standing immediately beside his best friend, for whatever emotional support she would need. He had a strong feeling that this wouldn't end well. He knew how short-tempered and angry Mr. Harrison could be in these types of situations--more so than Mrs. Harrison, who was a bit more compassionate.

The Harrisons were in the living room with Jude and Max, who had apparently stopped over for a visit during the time that Lizzy and Paul had been in the other room. No one was really talking, and Max felt uneasy standing somewhere in between his friends and the two people who'd taken his niece from them. Mrs. Harrison burst into fresh tears--happy tears--when she laid eyes on Lizzy. She approached the young girl rather quickly, and wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. The same couldn't be said for Lizzy, who was still in such a state of shock and fear that she didn't return the embrace.

"Oh, Lizzy," she cried, "We're so glad you're safe. You had us worried sick!"

"How…How did you find me?" Lizzy asked.

"We noticed the car was gone when we got home from work," Mr. Harrison stated, his voice carrying a hint of anger, "And then I saw that my address book in my office wasn't put back properly. So, we figured it was you."

"We…went to see Paul's mother, because we knew that's where you might've gone after you stormed out of the house," Mrs. Harrison explained. Lizzy threw Paul a surprised glance; she never thought she'd see the day where her adoptive parents visited Paul's mother. They always talked about them as if they were lower than dirt because of their lack of money. "We asked her if she knew where you were, and that's when she told us you'd taken Paul with you to New York City. We would've been here sooner, but we couldn't book a flight with the holiday and the snow storms."

"But the address in the book…it was old…they had moved. How did you find the apartment?" Lizzy questioned, puzzled.

"Lucy and Jude sent us their new address a little while after they moved. Charlie didn't get around to putting it into the address book." Mrs. Harrison clarified. Lizzy resisted the sudden urge to smack herself in the forehead. They had had the correct address this whole time…_that_ would've been _useful_ to know beforehand. It would've spared her an emotional breakdown.

Lucy had been listening to the three of them talking, confused. "Wait," she said suddenly to Charlie and Maggie, "You didn't know Lizzy was coming to New York?"

Lizzy bit her lip and jumped in to explain, looking at Jude and Lucy. "I meant to tell you that I kinda left that part out of the story…"

"She must've neglected to tell you about how she _stole_ my car, too." Mr. Harrison declared, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Whoa, squirt…you stole a car? I didn't know you'd turned into such a badass." Max added, smirking. Mr. Harrison gave Max a weird look.

"_Where_ is the car, Elizabeth?"

Lizzy swallowed hard. "It…broke down somewhere in Pennsylvania."

"Sweetheart, if you would've told us that you wanted to go to New York, we would've tried to get you on a flight. We were worried about you driving all the way here and traveling through this city…" Mrs. Harrison was saying. Lizzy was too busy fighting with Charlie Harrison over his sports car to notice her.

Mr. Harrison and Lizzy were about ready to get into an intense argument when Jude entered the conversation, still a little perplexed by the whole situation. "I don't understand. Why did you run away to Paul's? Why didn't you tell Mr. and Mrs. Harrison you were going to see us?" He asked Lizzy.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I was still pissed about the fact that they'd kept this whole thing a huge secret from me for practically my entire life." she answered sarcastically, casting a narrow-eyed glare in the Harrisons' direction.

"_You didn't tell her she was adopted_?" Lucy exclaimed. She and Jude looked slightly livid. Max, although he was angry to hear such news, thought it was best to scoot out of the apartment quietly. He didn't want to be around when the yelling match began; he had a good feeling there was a hell of an argument coming.


	16. We Can Work It Out

**Disclaimer: Not mine...**

**A/N: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews!!!**

"No, they didn't tell me," Lizzy answered for the Harrisons, "At least, not until right before I left. I ran away to Paul's, then I decided to go find you."

"I thought we agreed that you'd tell her as soon as she was old enough to understand," Lucy said, putting a hand to her forehead and massaging her temple. "Somehow, I knew this would happen." she said in a whisper.

"We gave her to you so that you'd raise her," Jude said. "but we wanted her to at least _know_ where she came from. That was the whole purpose of the letter I wrote. Why would you hide us from her?"

Mrs. Harrison looked at her husband tensely. "It was a mistake, and we're very sorry--"

"Sorry's not good enough," Jude said, raising his voice. "_Why_ would you keep the truth from Lizzy?" He demanded.

"I…I don't know," Mrs. Harrison stammered, seeing that her husband wasn't going to speak. He was staring Jude down. "We didn't exactly approve of your lifestyle. We didn't want her to be influenced by it. But…apparently that didn't work." Lizzy couldn't help but smirk proudly. She had embraced her hippie lineage without even knowing it.

"So, you were ashamed of us? And you just took it upon yourselves to shut us out of her life? She has every right to know who her real parents are!" Lucy said heatedly.

They were all going to start _really _screaming at each other, and Lizzy didn't want to be in the middle of it. She also knew that Paul didn't want to stand there and witness that. "I know everyone here is more than a little pissed," she said. "But can't we just talk this over _calmly_?" There was an amazing amount of tension in the air, and Lizzy hated to be the cause of it. She was afraid that this entire thing would end in an ugly custody battle. She continued to tell them to stop yelling, while throwing apologetic looks in Paul's direction. Neither one of them listened; Lizzy's voice went unnoticed for the time being. Jude and Charlie Harrison were in the midst of a fiery argument and looked like they were about to haul off and punch each other in the face when Lizzy stepped in between them--things were going to go too far, and she never meant for it to.

Lizzy spread her arms out, placing either hand on Mr. Harrison's and Jude's chests. She glanced between them, her deep, azure eyes pleading for the two of them to stop.

"_Try to see it my way  
Do I have to keep on talking till I can't go on  
While you see it your way  
Run the risk of knowing that or love may soon be gone  
We can work it out  
We can work it out _

_Think of what you're saying _  
_You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right  
Think of what I'm saying  
We can work it out and get it straight or say good night  
We can work it out  
We can work it out _

_Life is very short and there's no time  
for fussing and fighting, my friend  
I have always thought that it's a crime  
So I will ask you once again…_"

Lizzy told the adults, while standing her ground in between her father and Charlie. Charlie was still looking a bit agitated. He went to get Lizzy out of the way, but Lizzy pushed him back and continued to get them to calm down.

"…_Try to see it my way  
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong  
While you see it your way  
There's a chance we might fall apart before too long  
We can work it out  
We can work it out _

Life is very short and there's no time  
for fussing and fighting, my friend  
I have always thought that it's a crime  
So I will ask you once again…" 

"There's nothing to _work out_, Elizabeth." Mr. Harrison said sternly.

Lizzy shook her head, rolling her eyes at Charlie. If he wasn't so _dense_, he'd stop yelling and pissing off her parents and everyone else in the room so that they could get this whole thing straightened out.

"_Think of what you're saying,_" she told him.

"_You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right  
Think of what I'm saying  
We can work it out and get it straight or say good night  
We can work it out  
We can work it out._"

"I know you wanted to see your biological parents, but the fact of the matter is, you ran away--we were very concerned about where you were going. I think you've had more than enough fun here in the city. I think it's best that you come home now." Mr. Harrison said, finally backing off.

"No," Lizzy said defiantly. "I _am_ home."

"Elizabeth, don't be ridiculous," Mr. Harrison argued. He was relentless; he usually got into disputes with the teenager more frequently than his wife. He and Lizzy constantly butted heads. "I understand that Jude and Lucy are your real parents, but legally, you belong in Florida, with us."

"Listen," Lizzy said, looking at the Harrisons, "you've given me everything possible, and I appreciate that. I'm sure my parents would agree that they're thankful having you to support me all these years. But…I don't belong with you. Not really. And I'm sure you've both realized this. Which is why I'd like to stay here in New York, permanently. That is, if Jude and Lucy would be willing to let me." Paul glanced at Lizzy, surprised. He had figured that this would most likely happen at some point. He would be happy for his best friend, of course, but he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she could potentially be leaving him behind…

Jude wrapped an arm around Lucy's shoulders. "Of course we would, love." he said. Mr. Harrison looked like he was about to open up his mouth to say something in protest; Mrs. Harrison must've noticed this, too, because she put a hand firmly on his arm.

"Charlie," she said, warningly. "Maybe we should let Liz decide what's best for _her_. She's old enough to have a say in what she wants, and as her surrogate parents, we should support her." Mrs. Harrison shared a rare smile with the teenager, and for the first time in a long time, Lizzy felt like Mrs. Harrison actually _understood _now.

Mr. Harrison stood, arms still crossed, his expression deeply pensive. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and finally looked at Lizzy. "Is this what you _really_ want?" he asked.

"Very much so, yes." Lizzy answered.

"And you're willing to take her in again?" Mr. Harrison inquired of Lucy and Jude. "You're financially stable--enough to support her? She _is_ going to college in the fall…"

Lucy shared a smile with Jude. "Yes, we can manage it now." he told Charlie. There was a moment of tense silence. Mr. Harrison glanced at his wife, and they seemed to communicate through body language to come up with a decision.

"Okay," Charlie declared. Lizzy felt her stomach doing excited flip-flops. "We'll have to get in touch with our lawyer and get this all sorted out." He told Lucy and Jude. "But, Lizzy will have to finish out the school year in Florida, if you don't mind. Then, we can get her settled here at the start of the summer."

"And we'll pay for her to fly out and spend spring break here in New York." Mrs. Harrison added.

"Thank you," Lizzy said, suddenly wrapping her arms around Mrs. Harrison. She then gave Mr. Harrison a hug. "Thank you so much…" Lizzy went and stood between Lucy and Jude; Lucy was wiping tears from her cheeks. Jude and Lucy couldn't believe their daughter was actually going to live with them _permanently_. The two happy parents said their own 'thank you's', giving the Harrisons hand shakes and grateful embraces.

"Do you need somewhere to stay?" Lucy asked after she and Jude had finished thanking them.

"No, but thank you for the invitation," Mrs. Harrison said. "We've got a hotel room."

"How long are you planning on stayin' in New York?" Jude asked.

"Until January 2. Maggie wanted to stay for New Year's." Mr. Harrison replied.

"Well, we're having a New Year's Eve party, so you're both welcome to come. The whole family will be here." Lucy informed them.

"We might take you up on the offer." Mr. Harrison laughed.

----------------------------------------

Before anyone knew it, it was New Year's Eve and they were in the midst of the party at Lucy and Jude's apartment. The place was decorated with New Year's balloons and banners, and there was an assortment of junk foods spread out on the table in the center of the living room. The entire family was gathered in the living room in front of the television, watching the celebrations happening in Times Square in anticipation. Valerie and Max were on the couch with Michelle sitting in between them; little Max was seated on the floor watching as Jimi sat in a chair and strummed his acoustic guitar. He was playing with a bag of New Year's confetti, spreading it all over himself and the floor in front of him. Eleanor, Lizzy, and Paul were on the floor as well, keeping an eye on the TV while talking. Sadie and JoJo were curled up in a chair together, as was Prudence and Rita. Lucy was sitting on Jude's lap on the remaining spot on the couch.

It was eleven o'clock when Mr. and Mrs. Harrison showed up, bringing with them a large bottle of what appeared to be some kind of expensive champagne. Everyone was a bit surprised that they had taken Lucy and Jude's invitation. They had known about the Harrisons' visit to Lucy and Jude's place the other day, since Max had basically spread the word about it. It wasn't until yesterday that Lucy and Jude had told the rest of the family that they were making arrangements with the Harrisons so that Lizzy could stay with them permanently after she graduated from high school. Everyone was excited to hear the news, and were without a doubt happy that Lizzy was going to live in New York again.

"Hello, everyone," Mrs. Harrison said cheerfully as the adults were quietly explaining to the kids that these people had been the ones raising Lizzy since she was two years old. "I hope we're not _too _late."

"Not at all," Sadie said, while they sat down in a couple of extra chairs. "Party's just getting started."

Mr. and Mrs. Harrison introduced themselves to some unfamiliar faces--meaning, little Max, Michelle, Jimi, Eleanor and Rita. Meanwhile, Lizzy and Paul were discussing Lizzy's move to New York. It was mostly Lizzy talking; Paul was paying attention somewhat, his mind too preoccupied with other things, like the fact that he was going to loose his best friend in a few months. She'd start over here, and leave him miles and miles away. He couldn't bear the thought of it, and he certainly couldn't bring up his concerns because Lizzy was just so _excited_.

"My dad talked to my mom about SVA--you know, the college in Manhattan?" she was saying. Paul nodded absentmindedly in response. "They said if I really wanted to go there, I could. Isn't that awesome?"

"Uh-huh."

Lizzy tilted her head to the side, looking at her friend skeptically. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy for me."

Paul suddenly perked up, offering her the best smile he could manage, hoping it didn't look too forced. "Oh, yeah…I am. That's great, Lizzy. First choice school…that's _great_. It's what you wanted, right?"

She smiled. "Yeah."

"Cool."

They turned their attention back to the TV, watching a shot of the crowd gathered in Times Square for the festivities. Paul was discreetly observing his friend out of the corner of his eye as she twisted the strawberry pendant between her fingers. She had a smirk on her face, her blue eyes sparkling with anxiousness. He'd miss her, he realized. Everything about her--her smile, her sarcastic comments, her advice when he was feeling down, and her eyes; the ones he got lost in on several occasions. Paul was going to loose the girl he truly cared for, maybe more than just a best friend. And he wasn't so sure he could do anything to stop that.

When it was a minute until midnight, everyone in the room was on their feet--well, everyone who was awake. Max Jr. had fallen asleep, and Eleanor was close to it, so she was too tired to stand. Other than that, the rest of the family and the Harrisons were up and waiting anxiously. Then, they counted down from ten, eyes glued to the TV as the bright, sparkling, ball of light dropped in Times Square.

"Happy New Year!" The group yelled enthusiastically at the stroke of twelve. Immediately, all of the adult couples shared the traditional kiss at midnight. Paul, Lizzy, Jimi, and Michelle were left to watch as all of the couples in the room--even the Harrisons--rang in the new year with their significant other. Lizzy turned to Paul, ready to wish him a 'Happy New Year'. But before she could get the words out of her mouth, Paul was cupping the side of her face with his hand, searching her eyes for any sign that she wanted to pull away.

Lizzy was too shocked to think clearly, and therefore Paul found nothing to stop his actions, so he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Lizzy was still surprised and severely confused, but returned the kiss, her mind racing. She was fighting with every thought, feeling and emotion she had in her at that very moment. She wasn't sure if this was _right_. Paul was her friend--her _best friend_. And this wasn't exactly the kind of thing that best friends did. However, somewhere in the middle of the shock and confusion and thinking that _this isn't something they should be doing_, Lizzy liked the kiss. It was gentle and undeniably sweet; an obvious display of affection telling her that Paul wanted something _more _than just her friendship. Lizzy didn't know how she felt about that.

They broke from the kiss rather abruptly, and Lizzy became particularly interested in the floor. She stared down at her feet and didn't say a word. Everyone had seen the kiss, but had decided not to say anything; it was an issue that had to be dealt with by the two teenagers. When Lizzy didn't speak, Paul mentally kicked himself. Maybe kissing her _wasn't_ the best idea…

"Lizzy…" he began to say quietly. "I didn't…"

But then again, she _had _kissed him back.

"Don't…worry about it," Lizzy lied, and made her way to the front door. "Umm…I'm gonna go on the roof and get some fresh air. Be back in a little bit." She informed her parents. She left as Max broke the awkwardness by suggesting that they crack open the champagne bottle the Harrisons brought. Paul waited a few minutes, and went after Lizzy, knowing that they need to talk this over. Once the two teenagers left, Max let out an amused laugh, looking over at Lucy and Jude.

"Ooh man," he chuckled, "Looks like someone's in _love_…"


	17. Love Me Do

**Disclaimer: I don't own. I swear. **

**A/N: Thanks to all who keep reviewing and reading! I always appreciate it!**

It was chilly on the roof--a little colder than Lizzy might've liked, considering she had been in such a hurry to hightail it out of the apartment that she hadn't brought a jacket along with her. Lizzy shivered, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands to keep them warm. It was freezing outside, but luckily it wasn't snowing. The frigid air blew through her dark locks as she stared at the street below. Various people were making their way home from their New Year's celebrations. Some were drunk and would yell into the night, laughing.

The noise didn't bother Lizzy too much; she was deep in thought, thinking about how Paul's kiss had effected her. She didn't know how to handle it. It was a good kiss, there was no doubt about it…but it was weird. She'd known Paul since they were kids--he was like a _brother_. It was all too confusing.

Lizzy wasn't left alone with her thoughts for very long; she heard the door to the roof open a few short minutes later, and she knew it could only be one person. And that person was Paul. She didn't say a word, only listened to the sound of his footsteps approaching. Paul paused, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He knew that _she _knew he was here, but yet she chose not to acknowledge his presence. A long silence passed with the two of them standing there awkwardly before Paul managed to finally speak. The silence was killing him.

"Lizzy…" he said softly. "That kiss…"

Lizzy turned around to face him. "That kiss wasn't like the time you kissed me when we were five and joking around. It wasn't supposed to happen."

_Especially in front of my entire family_, Lizzy thought, _As if it hadn't been awkward enough already_.

"Wasn't it?" Paul countered. "Because I didn't see you trying to stop it. As I recall, you kissed me _back_, Lizzy."

"I was confused," she admitted. "I still am. I…I'm afraid that, if something were to happen between us, it could ruin our friendship. And I don't want that, Paul."

"Nothing would happen."

"How can you say that?" Lizzy asked, throwing her hands up in the air, exasperated. "You _don't know_. I mean, we could break up and completely hate each other afterwards. I can't loose your friendship. I won't risk it."

Paul shook his head, laughing sarcastically. "Funny thing to say, especially when you're moving to New York after graduation."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're leaving me in Florida. That pretty much ends our friendship."

Lizzy sighed. "No, I doesn't. Is _that_ the reason why you're kissing me all of a sudden? You're upset that I'm leaving? Paul, just because I'm going to live in New York doesn't mean we're not going to be friends anymore. I wouldn't do that to you."

"A long-distance friendship? Yeah, how long do you think that would last?" Paul questioned. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "And, just so you know, the kiss wasn't about _that_."

"Then what was it about?" Lizzy asked, throwing him a puzzled look.

Paul paused, hesitant. He wanted so much to tell her how he felt, but he couldn't form the correct words to get his feelings out. He stared down at his feet, trying to collect his thoughts before he actually said anything. When he looked up again, Lizzy had one hand on her hip, waiting curiously for his answer.

"I don't know how you haven't noticed it before," he said to her, half-laughing. He was nervous as hell. It wasn't everyday that you confessed something of this magnitude to the girl you've known practically your whole life. "I kissed you because I care about you. More than a friend would. I…what I'm trying to say is…I love you, Lizzy."

To say that Lizzy was shocked would be a very large understatement. She gawked at him, rendered momentarily speechless. Seeing the look on her face, Paul stepped closer, and tried to offer some sort of elaboration.

"I know it's crazy to hear this from your best friend," he said. "But I guess--especially recently--that I've always had this crush on you. Then I finally realized that it was something a little more than a crush. I…just needed to tell you before you moved away to New York."

"I don't know what to say to that, Paul."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied, looking hurt, but trying his best to hide it. "I just wanted you to know."

Suddenly, Lizzy was angry with him. And somehow, she had a feeling that it was because he hadn't said this a bit _sooner_. Although, she was too stubborn to admit to herself--and Paul--that maybe she, too, felt something for _him_.

"Sorry," she said. "but I don't think a long-distance relationship would work out any better than a long-distance friendship."

Lizzy walked away abruptly, barging through the door and back into the building, leaving Paul in her wake. Once he heard the door slam shut, he let out a frustrated groan. He thought it was better to stay on the roof for awhile, so he started pacing and tried to clear his head. Once he got bored of pacing, he stood at the side of the roof, wondering why his talk with Lizzy hadn't gone as well as he had hoped it would. He almost regretted saying those three words to her--_almost_, but not really. He'd seen that look in her eyes several times when they were together. It was the same look he got whenever _he_ was lost in _her_ eyes. She _had_ to feel something for him. Otherwise, she would've never returned the kiss. Paul desperately wished that she wouldn't be so stubborn and just admit it to him.

Paul heaved a sigh and sat down on the roof, knees up. There was no way he'd be able to ignore his feelings for Lizzy, even if she wasn't exactly open to returning them…yet.

"…_Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
will never die  
And I love her._

_Bright are the stars that shine  
Dark is the sky  
I know this love of mine  
will never die  
And I love her, ooh…_"

-------------------------------

Lizzy stared at the patch of light that was on the wall, streaming through the window from the street lights outside. She was lying on her side on top of her blankets, still in her regular clothes. She wasn't tired, she just needed some time to herself to think things over.

The Harrisons had left ten minutes after she'd returned to the apartment, saying they'd be back on the second of January to take her and Paul to the airport for their flight to Florida. Once they had departed, Lizzy went into her room, while the festivities continued in the living room. Even now, she could hear the adults laughing and joking around over a game of what she guessed was poker. Normally, she'd join in on a game--her uncle Max was always an interesting person to play poker with--but now her mind was still reeling from the talk with Paul. She doubted that she would be able to concentrate on a card game.

Lizzy couldn't fully grasp the fact that Paul had said _those _three words.

_I love you. _

Needless to say, she'd been taken aback by it. She hadn't expected her best friend to profess his love to her. Although, she was pretty flattered. Lizzy had never had a guy her age tell her that, much less look in her direction like they did to the more popular girls in her grade.

The teenager's thoughts were unexpectedly interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door. Lizzy sat up, and told whoever it was to come in. A tiny part of her hoped that it wasn't Paul. She didn't feel like enduring another awkward, tense conversation with him. She was relieved, however, when the door opened and Sadie entered.

"Hey, sweet pea. You up for a dose of girl talk? You look like you could use it." she said, smiling, as she closed the door behind herself. Lizzy moved over and sat with her knees drawn up, hugging a pillow to her chest. She nodded, and Sadie took a seat beside her.

"I happened to see you and Paul kissing at midnight…and you seemed upset. I thought you and Paul were best friends--what's the deal?"

"I don't know," Lizzy sighed. "We _are_ best friends. But now Paul wants us to be something more."

"And you don't want that?"

Lizzy shrugged. "Too be honest, Sadie, I don't know what I want. I kissed him back…but I just feel so _confused_. It's weird to imagine me and Paul having _that_ sort of relationship."

"Well, do you like him?" Sadie asked, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of Lizzy's hair behind her ear.

"I…I'm not sure. I mean, he threw me off a little when he told me he _loved_ me."

"Do you think you might feel the same way about him as he does about you?"

Lizzy thought about it, picking at a loose fabric on the pillow she was holding tightly to her chest. Paul was good-looking, but it wasn't just about his looks. He had a great personality, and he had always been the one person that she got along with the best. And for as long as they'd known each other, Paul had always been there for her through everything. So, why _couldn't _she like him? It made perfect sense for them to be together _in that way_.

"Yeah," Lizzy said at last. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Sadie grinned. "There's nothing wrong with falling for your best friend, Lizzy. Believe me. The person you love should also be your best friend. Most relationships work out that way."

"But…I'm just afraid it might ruin our friendship. You know, if we broke up or something." Lizzy admitted.

"Love is about taking risks," Sadie stated. "Give Paul a chance. You'll end up regretting it if you don't."

"Okay," Lizzy agreed. "Thanks Sadie."

"No problem, darling," she said, getting to her feet. "I'm always here to talk. Or listen…to whatever. Just to let you know."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." Lizzy said again, and Sadie left, leaving her alone to dwell on her decision.

--------------------------

Paul managed to regain his sleeping space--the couch in the living room--a little after three-thirty in the morning, as soon as all of Lizzy's family members shuffled tiredly and a bit drunkenly out the front door and to their respective apartments, sleeping or half asleep children in tow. Now, it was nearly an hour later, and although he felt tired, Paul couldn't sleep. He kept replaying the conversation that had taken place between himself and Lizzy in his mind. He kept thinking that maybe he shouldn't have said some of those things. Like telling her that he loved her. Maybe saying he _liked_ her would've been a better choice--he felt sort of bad for scaring her away.

Paul gazed up at the ceiling, wishing for sleep that unfortunately did not come. He laid there for a few moments, darkness and eerie quietness surrounding him. That is, until he heard a door open in the hallway. Thinking that it might be one of Lizzy's parents, Paul shut his eyes, trying to force himself to get to sleep. With his eyes still closed, he listened to the person's footsteps; light and sort of quiet, like he or she was trying to make sure they didn't wake anyone else up. Paul was startled to hear the footsteps drawing closer, not fading into another room, like the kitchen or the bathroom. Still, he kept his eyes closed. A moment later, he felt a presence hovering above him, and a soft, beautiful voice talking to him in a slight whisper.

"_Love, love me do  
You know I love you  
I'll always be true  
so please, love me do  
oh, love me do_

Love, love me do  
You know I love you  
I'll always be true  
so please, love me do   
oh, love me do…"

Paul opened his eyes, instantly recognizing the voice. He sat up, surprised to see Lizzy standing by the couch. He stood up and was about to say something when she silently told him to not to. She needed to tell him--tell him that she was ready to give him a chance. 

"_Someone to love  
Somebody new  
Someone to love  
Someone like you _

Love, love me do  
You know I love you  
I'll always be true  
so please, love me do  
oh, love me do

Love, love me do  
You know I love you  
I'll always be true  
so please, love me do  
oh, love me do  
Yeah, love me do   
_Oh, love me do…_"

And that's about when she kissed him. Her lips collided with his, and neither one of them held anything back this time. There was no awkwardness, no fear. Just love, and thought that what they were doing _was_ right. Paul was surprised by the gesture, but welcomed the kiss, knowing that he'd been right all along. Lizzy _did_ love him. He placed his hands on her waist, her arms already encircled around his neck. They shared the kiss for a little longer until Paul broke from it, grinning.

"I decided that I want to try the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing." she told him, laughing.

"So I see."

"If it's okay with you and everything…"

"I'm not protesting."

"Good." Lizzy smiled. Paul returned the smile, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do."


	18. Birthday

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**A/N: I'm so, so sorry for the long wait! Life has been crazy and I've been extremely busy. Thank you so much for all those who have reviewed, and those who have kept reading! Your positive comments are always appreciated. Enjoy chapter 18!**

Lizzy hated that January 2 had come so fast. _Too_ fast, in her opinion. It had been just a few days ago that she had met up with her family; now, she was standing in the airport saying her goodbyes to them. She knew it would only be temporary--she'd be returning in April for spring break--but it was one of the hardest things she had had to do in her seventeen years of life. Lizzy had gotten so comfortable here in New York, in the company of her parents, aunts, uncles and cousins. She had become accustomed to all the little things that now made her smile--Michelle chasing little Max around, the sound of JoJo and Jimi's guitars playing in harmony together, her uncle Max's antics, the smell of charcoal and cigarettes that she would always associate with Jude, Lucy's maternal instincts kicking into overdrive, and countless other things. She didn't want to leave. 

Lucy pulled her daughter in for a hug once Lizzy had gone down the line, giving her family members their own personal goodbyes. Lucy placed a kiss onto Lizzy's cheek, trying desperately not to break down into tears. Her daughter was leaving them for the second time--it was almost unbearable. The only fact that kept Lucy from crying was that she knew her daughter would be back in a few months. She would leave then, too, but she would return after graduation and stay with them permanently. 

"I'm going to miss you," she told the teenager, "I love you." 

"I'm gonna miss you, too, Mom. I'll see you in a few months." 

"A few months is way too long." Lucy mused, half-whispering. 

"I know." Lizzy agreed, reluctantly breaking from the hug. She approached Jude, wrapping her arms around him. 

"I'll see ya, love," he said. "Keep up the artwork, all right?" 

"I will." 

Lizzy stepped back and picked up her carry-on bag, slinging it over one shoulder. It hurt her to stare back at her group of family members gathered among the crowds of other people moving around them. The expressions on their faces were making her sad. She realized that this was how they must've looked when she departed from New York with the Harrisons for the first time all those years ago. 

"Ready?" Mrs. Harrison asked. She stood next to her husband, a few feet behind where Lizzy was, with Paul a little off to the side. Lizzy was surprised that the Harrisons were being so civil toward him, even paying for his plane ticket home. But then again, things had begun to change for the better between Lizzy and the Harrisons. 

"It's time to board." Mr. Harrison stated after Lizzy didn't answer. She nodded in reply, smiling to her family again. 

"Bye!" she called, waving to them as she and Paul started toward the terminal with the Harrisons. Jude, Lucy and the rest of the tight-knit family waved back, shouting out their own goodbyes. They walked down the terminal and boarded the plane, taking their seats. Paul and Lizzy sat together in front of Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, and held hands for the entirety of the plane ride. Lizzy stole the window seat, and watched out the window as the snow, skyscrapers, and taxis of New York disappeared, soon to be replaced by sun, sand, and palm trees.

* * *

Lizzy had been grounded by Charlie and Maggie Harrison the day she returned to Florida. Two weeks of no television, no hanging out with Paul after school or on the weekends, and no phone calls. It was the minimum price she had to pay for "borrowing" Charlie's luxury sports car and then ditching it in the middle of nowhere. And, she had run away from home to go to New York without letting them know about it first. Lizzy took the punishment well, happy that at least she and the Harrisons were on good terms now. They could understand her now; they didn't try to suppress her differences and creative abilities. They could have civil conversations together without it turning into a screaming match. Lizzy had even discussed her plans to attend the School of Visual Arts in the fall with Charlie, and Maggie suddenly became interested in her artwork. 

But best of all, they got to know Paul. After her grounding was over with, of course. They invited Paul and his mother to dinner one night and from then on, he was a welcomed guest in their house. Lizzy figured that they felt bad about judging him earlier, when they didn't really know him or his mother. They had probably learned through this whole experience--with Lizzy and her family--that someone didn't need money to be happy. Money couldn't buy love, either, as Lizzy had pointed out. 

The teenager was excited that she and Paul could hang out more often at her house; she felt better not having to sneak out or tell lies every other night. 

A few weeks later, the two of them were sitting on the couch in Lizzy's living room watching a movie together. Paul was sitting with his back against the arm of the couch, and Lizzy was cuddled up beside him, her head on his chest and his arm warpped around her shoulder. It was February 9--Lizzy's birthday, actually. Even though she was turning eighteen, she didn't want to have this humongous celebration. All she really wanted to do was spend the day with Paul at her house, and maybe have some cake and ice cream later with him and the Harrisons. She liked simple things; she felt like she didn't need extravagant celebrations for her birthdays, especially since she hit her teens. She liked to be very laid-back. 

Mr. Harrison had been in his study for the past two hours talking to his lawyer, trying to get the details worked out with Lucy and Jude's lawyer so that they could once again have legal custody of their daughter. It was a tedious process with lots of paperwork and such. Mrs. Harrison, on the other hand, had been in the kitchen with Paul's mother--the two women had become friends, weirdly enough--baking a cake for Lizzy's birthday. They had also decorated the house with balloons and signs early this morning before Lizzy woke up. 

At the moment, Lizzy wasn't paying much attention to the movie they had been watching. She hadn't exactly known what it was from the beginning, anyway. Right now, she was relishing in the fact that she and Paul were still dating. She was well aware of his touch on her arm as he gently brushed his fingers along her skin--it was quite nice. The boyfriend/girlfriend thing wasn't so awkward anymore.

The teenager was about to ask Paul what was going on in the movie when the phone rang. Lizzy bolted upright immediately, hoping it was a call from New York. She had been talking to her family frequently, calling them once or twice every other week. She always anticipated whether they'd call her. Lizzy jumped off the couch and dashed over to the phone, (nearly sliding across the floor) swiping it off the wall in the kitchen. 

"Hello?" she asked. 

"Happy Birthday!" Lizzy's entire family shouted back.

"You're legal!" she heard Max yell. 

Lizzy couldn't help but laugh. She didn't have a chance to reply, because suddenly everyone on the other line started to sing and she heard JoJo's guitar wailing along with the song. 

"_You say it's your birthday  
It's my birthday too, yeah  
They say it's you birthday  
We're gonna have a good time  
I'm glad it's your birthday  
Happy birthday to you _  
_  
Yes we're going to a party, party  
Yes we're going to a party, party  
Yes we're going to a party, party _

_I would like you to dance (birthday)  
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (birthday)  
I would like you to dance (birthday)  
Ooo, dance, yeah _

_I would like you to dance (birthday)  
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (birthday)  
I would like you to dance (birthday)  
Ooo, dance_

_You say it's your birthday  
It's my birthday too, yeah  
They say it's you birthday __  
__We're gonna have a good time  
I'm glad it's your birthday  
Happy birthday to you  
Happy birthday to you!_" 

Once the song ended, Lucy got on the phone. "Happy birthday, sweetheart. How does it feel to be eighteen?"

"Good?" Lizzy asked in a questioning tone. She didn't feel that much different. 

"We just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday. We were going to send your presents over, but we thought it would be better to give you them personally. Think you can wait 'til April?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Lizzy said. "It's just nice hearing from you all." 

"Okay. Hold on, your dad wants to talk to you," Lucy told her. "I love you Lizzy; talk to you soon."

"Bye Mom…I love you--tell everyone I said thanks for the song." she laughed.

"Will do."

There was a rustling noise as the phone was passed over to Jude, then his accented voice echoed in her ear. "Happy Birthday, love," he said brightly. "How are ya celebratin' over there? Lots of cake and ice cream, I hope." 

"Yeah, Maggie is busy making a cake with Paul's mom." she informed him. 

"Ah…good. Well, listen: enjoy your day, all right?"

"Uh-huh. Thanks, Dad."

"Love you."

"Love you, too," he replied. "I'm gonna hand the phone over to Max."

The rustling noise filled the other end of the phone again, then Max shouted, "Lizzy! How the hell are ya?"

Lizzy laughed again. "I'm good, Uncle Max. How 'bout you?" 

"I'd be better if my niece was here." he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I'll be there soon." she reminded him. 

"Yeah…" he trailed off briefly. "Well, you're an adult now, so when you come on back to New York, I'll take you out and teach you how to _party _like an _adult_." 

"Okay--but I'm holding you to it." she giggled. 

"All right," he chuckled. "Gotta go. Talk to ya soon. Bye, squirt." 

"Bye, Uncle Max."

The rest of Lizzy's family yelled another "Happy Birthday" to her, mixed with a few "goodbyes", then whoever was holding the phone hung up. Lizzy stood there with the phone still in her hand, smiling to herself. She missed them all so much. To her--and the rest of the gang back in New York--the spring break in April couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

**A/N: It's a bit short, but it's something, right? LOL. Anyway, points to whoever knows the significance of February 9 (Lizzy's birthday) in relation to The Beatles… **


	19. Here Comes the Sun

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of the kind reviews! And congrats to everyone who got the trivia question about Lizzy's birthday right! February 9, 1964 was the day when The Beatles first preformed on **_**The Ed Sullivan Show**_**, and more than 72 million people saw them. February 7, 1964 is the actual day when the Fab Four arrived in New York City, and on February 11 they played their first U.S. concert. Thought I'd share that with all of you… Now, onto chapter 19! **

Lizzy stared down at the sketchpad sitting on her lap, pencil in her hand. She sat cross-legged in the center of her bed in silence with her artwork. Outside, it was a particularly dreary March day; wind whipped the palm trees back and forth, the sky was gray, and rain had been falling since the early morning hours. The depressing weather hadn't helped Lizzy come out of her saddened state at all. In fact, it only seemed to make things worse.

She found that she couldn't look at the drawings on the page in front of her anymore, as tears suddenly flooded her vision. The page was covered in sketches of skyscrapers, taxi cabs, signs and building fronts--anything that she remembered from her short time spent in the Big Apple. It was right there in front of her; everything to remind her of the family that was living there at this moment. The family she_ should _be with right now. For the last couple weeks, all she could draw was the sights of that city, or the faces of her parents and other relatives. She was incredibly homesick, because that was what New York _really _was--her _home_.

Sure, she talked to her family once every week, but that wasn't enough. It was great to hear their voices, but she always thought about how much _better_ it would be to _see _them. She was keeping a countdown until the spring break, when she would be able hug each and every person as soon as she saw them. She couldn't wait. Sadie, Prudence, and Rita had promised to take Lizzy and Lucy shopping, Max was still being held to his promise to take her for a night out on the town, and Jude kept telling her that he had a surprise waiting for her.

Lizzy thought that her drawings would bring her some sort of comfort, but had no such luck. She _was_ supposed to be thinking of ideas for her final project in Art class at school. Mr. Henderson had told his students that their final project would be a large painting on a canvas. The assignment was to draw something that held a special meaning to you, something that you could convey symbolically. Lizzy's ideas had morphed into literal things that represented New York City.

But it wasn't New York she wanted to paint--besides, everything she drew of the city was grey, lonely and overall depressing. She wanted to paint something that symbolized her reunion with her parents; something colorful, that would represent a new start in her life. However, she wasn't feeling the creative spark, and unfortunately, she had to have a rough outline ready for school tomorrow, when they began painting.

The eighteen-year-old tossed the sketchbook and pencil onto the floor, frustrated. She laid back, gazing up at the ceiling, listening to the rain pounding on her window. All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door, making her jump with a small gasp. Lizzy sat up sharply, pushing a few strands of her dark hair out of her face.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Paul," the muffled voice stated from the other side of the door, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Lizzy replied, lying back down. The door opened, and Paul shuffled in, shutting it softly behind him. He saw Lizzy lying on her bed on her side, and walked over, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on her leg.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. "Are you sick?"

Lizzy paused for a beat. "In a way, I guess." she mumbled. Paul noticed the sadness in her cerulean eyes and immediately realized what was wrong. She wasn't ill, she was homesick. He reached up to rub soothing circles on her back.

"Only one more month." he reminded her, offering a reassuring smile.

"I know," Lizzy said, her voice shaking ever so slightly, "but…I…"

"You miss them," he finished. "You know, they're probably feeling the same way right now."

Lizzy wiped a stray tear from her cheek, and sat up, dangling her legs over the side of the bed. She rested her head on Paul's shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. He placed a kiss onto her forehead, brushing away another tear that had managed to fall. Paul wanted to help her, comfort her. He continued to embrace her, trying to tell her things would get better soon. The clouds would break, and her life would be bright again when she returned to New York.

"_Here comes the sun, do do do do  
Here comes the sun, and I say  
It's all right…_"

Paul told Lizzy. She only glanced up at him skeptically.

_Little darling  
It's been a long cold lonely winter  
Little darling  
It feels like years since it's been here _

_Here comes the sun, do do do do  
Here comes the sun, and I say  
It's all right _

_Little darling  
The smiles returning to the faces…"_

Paul brushed his finger along her cheek, grinning. Lizzy returned it, but only half-heartedly.

_"…Little darling  
I seems like years since it's been here_

Here comes the sun, do do do do  
Here comes the sun, and I say  
It's all right

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes _

_Little darling  
I feel that ice is slowly melting  
Little darling  
It seems like years since it's been clear _

_Here comes the sun, do do do  
Here comes the sun, and I say  
It's all right  
Here comes the sun, do do do  
Here comes the sun  
It's all right  
It's all right."_

Lizzy hugged Paul back. She really needed that. She knew Paul was right--the sun would come soon. She just had to wait a few more weeks, but it would be there, waiting to greet her warmly.

* * *

The very next day, Paul and Lizzy sat out in the courtyard of their high school during lunch with the rest of the seniors who had opted to take advantage of the nice weather, compared to yesterday's gloominess. The two teenagers were sitting in the grass; Paul had his brown-bagged lunch splayed out in front of him, while Lizzy was just finishing up hers. She tossed the now empty bag into her messenger bag and took out her sketchbook, hoping to get the creative spark back--and fast.

"Think of anything yet?" Paul questioned, watching as she tapped a beat onto the cover of her sketchpad with her pencil.

Lizzy sighed. "Nope."

"Don't you have art in, like, two periods?"

"Yep."

She set the sketchbook and pencil beside her and laid back on the grass, hands behind her head. She stayed like that for quite some time, gradually drowning out the hum of conversation coming from their classmates all around the courtyard, or anything else she found distracting. Lizzy focused on the sounds of nature--the grass rustling in the light wind, birds chirping overhead, the waves crashing against the shoreline and rocks. She was conscious of the palm trees towering above, and the sun blazing down on her from a bright blue sky. If she tried hard enough, she could almost imagine the sand underneath her.

That's when the idea struck. Lizzy sat up, eyes opening. She grabbed her sketchbook and pencil and began sketching furiously. Paul laughed.

"Guess the creative flow is back, isn't it?"

"Mmm-hmm." Lizzy replied, eyes never leaving the paper. Her hand moved quickly, drawing the outline of her painting. She knew it would be perfect; it would symbolize Lizzy and her parents exactly. She couldn't wait to start working, to express her idea on a canvas, full of color and life.

Lizzy knew the painting was going to take a great deal of time, effort, and above all, patience. She planned to put a great deal of detail and intricacy into it, as she did with every peace she completed. That's why, in the weeks leading up to her departure to New York, she took advantage of her free periods during school. She took her canvas, paints, and brushes to the art studio across from Mr. Henderson's classroom and worked when he happened to have a class, or when he didn't, she stayed in his room. She even worked after school on some days, with Mr. Henderson and Paul looking on with curiosity as the painting slowly began to take shape.

Lizzy had never been more proud of something in all her years of drawing, sketching, and painting.

The entire background of the painting was a mix of black, purple and dark blue, with white specks (and a touch of metallic silver) as stars. On the left side of the canvas, in the top corner, the stars were a bit bigger, and took on a diamond-like shape. There were fluffy, white clouds with hints of lighter colors painted there, too, to give it some depth. Coming out of the clouds was a woman with long, blond hair that seemed to be blowing in an unseen wind. The woman's azure eyes were focused on something far off, her arms outstretched and reaching for it as she floated out of the clouds. She was dressed in a flowing, white skirt and the same yellow tunic-like shirt Lizzy had received, and her feet were bare. This woman was Lucy. There was a message written in an almost neon pink color, underneath Lucy, which read, _"My mother is of the sky…"_

On the right side of the canvas, in the bottom corner, the Earth jutted out into space, the water a shade of cerulean and the land a mix of both dark and light greens. The land Lizzy had painted on the earth was actually a rough outline of the United Kingdom, which she figured was very fitting. A man stood on the Earth, reaching one of his hands out. He had deep, brown eyes and shaggy, dark brown hair. He had on a bright red shirt rolled up to his sleeves, and blue jeans lightly splattered with flecks of paint. This man was obviously Jude. Written in vivid, orange paint, curving along the Earth below Jude's feet, was the message, _"My father is of the Earth…" _

Finally, in the middle of Lucy and Jude, there was a young girl suspended in the inky black and purple space, stars shimmering around her. She was the person both the man and the woman were reaching out to. She had the same dark brown hair as the man, yet the same cobalt colored eyes as the woman. She wore blue jeans and a purple top, a strawberry pendant noticeable around her neck, and a black hat sitting on top of her head. She was looking ahead, her arms were down but a little out at her sides. She was aware of the adults' presence, and looked as if she was ready to reach out to them in return. This young girl was, of course, Lizzy. The message written below Lizzy's feet in red paint finished the other two phrases, bringing everything full circle. It read, _"…But I am of the Universe." _

The painting carried a lot of symbolism for Lizzy, and she felt very attached to it. She was extremely happy to see it finished, as was Paul, who knew what most of it was about without any sort of explanation. When it came time for Mr. Henderson to grade everyone's final projects, Lizzy stood by hers proudly while her teacher scrutinized it.

"This is amazing work, Lizzy," he praised. "All the extra effort really paid off."

"Thank you." she answered humbly. She ended up getting an A on the project, so it certainly was worth it to stay after school and work through her free periods. On top of getting an A, though, Mr. Henderson pulled Lizzy aside after class to speak with her about something.

"You remember me saying how I work at the art museum on weekends, right?" he asked once most of the students had begun to file out the door. Lizzy nodded in reply. "Well, the museum's having an art show the weekend after spring break ends, to show off some artwork done by high school students all over the area. Do you mind if we put your painting on display?"

Lizzy was momentarily shocked. "Mine? _Really_?"

"Yeah," he answered. "All you'd have to do is show up and stand by your painting for a bit, talk to some people, and maybe have a look at the other stuff that's there, if you want to. It'd be great to have a student there who's going to the School of Visual Arts in the fall."

"Sure," she said brightly. "It sounds like fun. Thanks, Mr. H."

"Okay, cool. I'll get back to you with the details after break."

"All right. Thanks again!" Lizzy exclaimed as she started to leave the classroom. She was halfway down the semi-empty hallway when Mr. Henderson dashed out the door.

"Lizzy?" he called. The teenager turned around quickly.

"Yes?"

"I forgot to ask," he told her, "but what's your painting called? I need to know for the show."

Lizzy grinned. "_Across the Universe_."

* * *

**A/N: I liked this chapter--hope you did, too. For the record, I tried to sketch Lizzy's painting…it didn't turn out too well, but then I tried**_** really **_**drawing it with oil pastels, and I only got the part with Jude done (although Jude's face is blank 'cause if I tried to draw it, it wouldn't do him any justice). I was excited when I got the idea for the painting, though. I was inspired by some lines in a Beatles song.**

**So, I have a new trivia question for all of you. What song is the "message" in Lizzy's painting from? (**_**"My mother was of the sky/My father was of the Earth/But I am of the Universe…") **_**I changed the "was" to "is" for the story, but the rest is still the same. I'm curious to see who gets this right… **


	20. Getting Better

**Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. All of it belongs to The Beatles. **

**A/N: So sorry for the long wait! School got in the way; hope you can forgive me! As for the last trivia question, many of you got it right. The song is "Yer Blues"--one of my favorites, actually. Now, on to chapter 20! Enjoy!**

"Tell everyone I said hi." Paul requested, standing across from Lizzy, holding her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of her palm. They were in the airport with Harrisons waiting for Lizzy's plane to New York to start boarding. It was a Saturday and the start of spring break, so it was extremely crowded and hectic around them. Lizzy had her carry-on--a backpack shoved to its capacity with everything from sketchbooks to makeup--slung over her shoulders, and it was weighing her down quite uncomfortably. She had packed a large amount of stuff into her other suitcases as well; it was all part of the slow process of moving her belongings from Florida to her parents' apartment in New York.

"I will." Lizzy answered, half-listening to the boarding announcements over the speaker system. She was extremely anxious to get on the plane--to get to New York.

"Make sure to call us once you get in so we know you got there okay." Mrs. Harrison said to Lizzy. The teenager nodded as her flight was finally called. She gave Maggie and Charlie each a hug before embracing her boyfriend tightly. When they broke their hug, Lizzy leaned in and their lips met in a kiss.

"See you in two weeks." she said, hesitantly pulling herself away from him. She readjusted her backpack and headed for the terminal. Once she settled into her seat on the plane, she stared out the window, her mind drifting into a daydream. She saw the faces of her family, heard their voices…it was all just one plane ride away.

_It won't be long… _Lizzy thought, smiling.

* * *

"Lizzy!"

The young girl could pick her mother's excited shout out of the loud din of conversation easily. The JFK airport was much more crowded than the one back in Florida, so she had a tougher time navigating through the masses of people. Especially with what she guessed to be a nearly thirty pound backpack and two suitcases full of everything but the kitchen sink. But she found them--Jude and Lucy were there, and the greeting was much better than how she had pictured it in her mind. When she reached them, she instantly dropped her luggage at her feet and ran to her mother's open and waiting arms.

Lucy swayed back and forth elatedly with her daughter in her arms, a huge grin on her face, her cerulean eyes sparkling with happy, unshed tears. "This is so much better than the phone." she admitted.

"I agree." Lizzy laughed. Jude joined the embrace, hugging both of his favorite girls, content to have the two of them together again, at least for a little while.

"Where is everyone?" the eighteen-year-old asked when they started walking toward the exit, Lizzy in between her parents. She had her backpack on her shoulders, and Jude had offered to tow the two suitcases to the taxi waiting for them outside.

"You'll see." Lucy promised, pulling Lizzy into a half-hug as they neared the taxi. Lizzy raised an eyebrow, curious. Her mother had that sort of look in her eyes that led the young girl to believe she and her dad were up to something.

Jude wouldn't let Lizzy help carry any of her luggage up to the apartment even when she offered profusely to help because she felt bad--the things weighed a ton, especially when hauling them up several flights of stairs. He said that it wasn't a problem, muttering something about how he'd done much more strenuous work while in the shipyards in Liverpool.

"You go first, love." Jude huffed when they reached the door of the apartment. Lizzy winced, still feeling guilty; she knew she shouldn't have packed so much shit. The guilt gradually dissolved, and was replaced with some confusion. She gestured to herself, not exactly sure if her father had been speaking to her or her mom.

Jude gave his daughter a reassuring nod, and Lizzy hesitantly turned the door handle. She pushed the door open--it creaked slightly--and discovered why her dad had been so persistent. The cheery, sunlit apartment was decked out to the max with every birthday decoration possible. Balloons floated up to the ceiling, colorful streamers covered almost every surface visible, and banners bearing the words, "Happy Birthday Lizzy!" or "Happy Eighteenth Birthday!" were strung up on the walls and in doorways. Lizzy clapped a hand to her mouth; she had completely forgotten that her family was planning to celebrate her birthday when she returned to New York.

"Whoa…" the teenager managed to say, stepping into the apartment, "You guys really went all out on this, didn't you?"

Jude shrugged, dropping her bag and suitcases onto the floor once he and Lucy walked inside. "It's your eighteenth. It's a big deal. Besides, me and your mum had to kind of make up for all the birthdays we missed…" Lucy wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulder, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

"Everyone will be here in a few minutes. Hope you're not too tired for a party."

Lizzy shook her head no, even though she was just a _little_ bit tired from getting up exceptionally early for her flight. She wasn't going to give up the chance to celebrate her birthday with her family for once.

Jude came back into the living room; neither Lizzy nor Lucy had noticed that he had left to put Lizzy's luggage in her bedroom. "Lizzy, ya mind comin' with me for a moment? I'd like to show ya something before everyone gets here."

"Sure."

Silently, Lizzy followed her father into the back of the apartment, down the hall to the spare room that was his art studio. She had only been in there once to get paint, but the room looked a little different than she remembered. The walls were even more cluttered with sketches and drawings and random paint splatters. However, it looked more organized than it had before. The back of the room now had shelves that housed a variety of cans and tubes of paint, along with every other art supply imaginable. Jude's desk--which was covered with papers of all kinds; drawings in various stages of completion--was set up against the back wall, beside a couple of easels with some finished paintings.

Lizzy then noticed that there was another work space set up near the two windows. A large, wooden desk with a lamp placed on top of it and a chair nearby, as well as an extra, smaller table beside it. From the windows, there was a wonderful view of the buildings and store fronts; something Lizzy had missed terribly while she was away in Florida.

Jude approached the additional desk, putting a hand on its surface. "You like it?"

Lizzy was taken aback. "Yes."

"Good. Thought you might need some space once ya moved in."

The teenager gave her father a hug, grateful. "I love it! Thank you." Jude kissed her forehead, smiling.

"I'm glad," he replied. "Ya like the view?" Lizzy nodded enthusiastically. The skyline would be a great inspiration for some paintings.

"Lizzy! Jude! Family's here!" Lucy yelled from the other room. The teenager gave Jude an excited grin, and dashed out the door, heading for the living room. Everyone had arrived within minutes of each other, so she was met with a multitude of hugs, kisses and "happy birthday's". Lizzy was happy to be surrounded by her aunts, uncles, and cousins again. She had never been around to celebrate a birthday with them (well, not one that she remembered, anyway), so it was nice to eat cake and ice cream in their company, while trying to catch up with all that had happened in their few months apart.

"So, Lizzy, what's new? Anything exciting happen in Florida?" Prudence questioned as the large group sat in Lucy and Jude's living room. Lizzy had just opened numerous presents from everyone, and therefore she was sitting on the floor in the midst of a pile of vibrantly colored wrapping paper, bows, and ribbons.

"Hmm…well, I sent in my deposit for SVA, so I'll be there taking classes in the fall." she informed them. Lucy gave an approving nod, happy that her daughter would be going to a college fairly close to where they lived. She was also proud of her daughter for actually wanting to attend college in the first place, as it was something neither she nor Jude had the opportunity to experience. For Jude, it had been completely out of the question, whereas Lucy _had_ the financial means to attend, but never did so because she had been pregnant with Lizzy at the time.

"Oh," Lizzy said, suddenly remembering a key event that had happened, "and my art teacher is putting one of my paintings on display at a student art show the weekend I get back to Florida."

"Really?" Jude asked, eyebrow raising in interest. "That's great, Lizzy. What's the painting look like?"

"I'm not telling," she teased. "but I will bring it to New York after graduation."

Sadie abruptly decided to change the direction of the conversation. She didn't want to think about her niece going back to Florida for another few more months before she moved to New York permanently. She wanted for them to make the most of the vacation while Lizzy was here. They had two weeks, and in her opinion, it wasn't nearly enough time.

"Lizzy, your mom and I were talking," she said, "and we thought it would be fun to have a girls day out--shopping in Manhattan. What'd you think?"

"Sounds like fun. I haven't really seen any of the sights in New York yet." This was her second time in the Big Apple, and she had only seen Times Square on the television during their little New Year's Eve party.

"You'll get to see them," Max reassured her. "I promised you a night on the town, remember?"

Lizzy couldn't help but give a nervous shudder. She wasn't so sure she wanted to know what her uncle's idea of a 'night on the town' would involve.

"Well, before _anyone_ takes her out, Jude and I wanted to spend the day with her tomorrow." Lucy declared. Lizzy glanced up at her mother, a smile gracing her lips. She couldn't think of a better way to start off her vacation.

* * *

Lizzy awoke the next morning upon hearing a familiar, accented voice singing some sort of lullaby in a whisper. She only caught part of it, as she wasn't fully coherent yet.

"…_Golden slumbers fill your eyes  
Smiles awake you when you rise  
Sleep pretty darling do not cry  
And I will sing a lullaby…"_

She opened her eyes and saw Jude standing beside her bed, sunlight streaming through the window bringing out the red highlights in his normally dark brown hair. She smiled and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her azure eyes. Yawning, she asked him what time it was.

"Almost noon, I think." he answered.

"Oh…I'm sorry," she said, quickly ripping the covers off herself and getting up from the bed. "I know you and mom wanted to spend the day with me. I didn't know it was so late--"

Jude laughed. "Don't worry about it. 'S only twelve. Besides, your mum knew you'd be tired from your flight."

"Just give me twenty minutes to get ready, and then we can go." Lizzy began rifling through one of her suitcases in a hurry, attempting to find something to wear. She felt horrible about sleeping in; she didn't want to waste time she could've been spending with her parents. Her mother had told her yesterday that the two of them wanted to take her out to a special spot for a picnic. She was lucky that she hadn't completely slept through lunch.

"There's no need to rush." Jude said quietly before leaving Lizzy's room. He knew she wouldn't really listen; she would try to make up for lost time anyway.

And she did. She was good on her word--twenty minutes later she entered the living room dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and Jude's old hat. Lucy and Jude had been waiting on the couch for her; Lucy had a canvas bag filled with their lunches sitting on the floor by her feet. Once Lizzy slipped into her sneakers, the two of them stood and followed her to the door. Lizzy had no idea where her parents had planned on taking her; Lucy had only said that it was a place that was very special to both of them.

It was a perfect day to be outside, though. There were just a few clouds in the sky, the sun beamed warmly, and there was a light breeze. The air smelled of spring, which was one of Lizzy's favorite scents. It was fresh; a sign of new life, new beginnings. She spent the entirety of the ride to wherever they were going with her head out of the taxi window, the wind blowing through her hair, watching as the other cars and buildings flew past them.

As they neared their destination, it became apparent that they were headed for a place that was by water. Lizzy recognized the somewhat fishy smell that assailed her nostrils almost immediately, having gone to the beach practically every day in her fifteen years living in Florida. The taxi driver dropped the three of them off on a road a short distance from where they were going, and they walked the rest of the way. Lucy and Jude led their daughter down to the docks--more specifically, a secluded little spot by an abandoned building. As her mother spread out a fleece blanket that she had brought with her on the ground, Lizzy looked out on the water to see that the surface was calm, and glistening in the sun. Seagulls flew overhead, and a sense of peace surrounded them. It wasn't the beach, but Lizzy knew that she would now have an alternative way to be near the water once she moved to New York.

"What'd ya think?" Jude asked, squinting slightly because of the sunlight.

"It's nice here," Lizzy grinned. "You said it was important to you and Mom?" Lucy set the canvas bag on the blanket and stood next to Jude, wrapping an arm around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

"Mm-hmm," she confirmed. "This is where your father and I finally realized that we were in love with each other." Lizzy couldn't help but smile. Her parents were too cute.

Jude took Lucy's hand and the two of them walked over to the brick building that towered behind them. Lizzy followed, curiously looking up at it as she watched her mother trace her free hand over a large patch of concrete on the wall of the building. She had a pleasant, nostalgic look on her face.

"I drew a picture of your mum on this wall," Jude told his daughter. "It's long gone now, but…"

"We almost got in trouble with a police officer once he saw Jude's artwork." Lucy giggled, leaning in to give Jude a kiss. It was official, in Lizzy's opinion: her parents were definitely the cutest couple _ever_. It didn't gross her out to see them kiss; she thought it was sweet that they were still so much in love with each other.

Jude broke from Lucy's embrace and came up behind Lizzy, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She was caught off guard; she had been staring at that wall, wondering what her parents were like when they were younger, swept up in the ideals of love and peace. She would've loved to remember the sixties, but unfortunately, she had been born toward the end of the decade and therefore did not remember anything.

"This is also the place where I told your father I was pregnant." Lucy informed her daughter. Lizzy glanced up at Jude, smirking.

"It's true," he said, smile matching Lizzy's. "I was surprised to find out that I was going to be a father. I was a little bit scared, but mostly excited. I wanted to call my mother as soon as I possibly could."

"How'd she take it?" Lizzy asked.

"Better than my parents did," Lucy admitted. "They weren't very…supportive. They liked Jude, of course, but they had only met him once. They never imagined that I would marry him, much less have his child."

"Did your mother ever come to the States to visit?" Lizzy asked her father.

"She came when you were born," he answered. "and before you left with the Harrisons." Lizzy felt somewhat sorry that she couldn't remember her grandmother. She would've liked to. "Some day, I'll have to take the two of you to Liverpool to see her."

This sparked Lizzy's interest. "Really? Can we? I'd love to go overseas." The prospect of going to England was exciting, possibly because she _did_ have a connection to it.

Jude chuckled. "During the summer sometime. Maybe not _this_ summer, but next summer. We'll go--I promise."

The three of them sat down to a picnic by the docks, enjoying their food while Lizzy asked to hear stories about her parents' experiences living in the sixties. They stayed for the rest of the day, absorbed in their conversations. Lucy told her all about her involvement with the anti-war protests and demonstrations, while Jude added some details when he and Lucy shared with her their various wild adventures. Lucy and Jude also told Lizzy about some significant moments in her childhood during the two years she lived with them.

Lizzy was intrigued by the stories, glad to have such a unique heritage. Being the child of an American ex-anti-war radical and a Liverpudlian artist was something Lizzy was proud of. She thought it was cool that her parents--and her entire family, for that matter--had been extremely involved in the sixties; an era of change. She knew that she wouldn't ever take her family for granted. They had so much to offer her; she had a lot to learn from them. And, she loved them all very dearly.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this chapter. Please review! Sadly, I don't have a trivia question this time…maybe I'll think of one for the next chapter. Speaking of which, next chapter Max takes Lizzy out for a "night on the town". It's going to be interesting… **


	21. Leave My Kitten Alone

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I was on spring break in Florida and I didn't have much of a chance to write. Hopefully this somewhat lengthy and exciting chapter makes up for it!**

Times Square was larger than life. It was as simple as that. Lizzy had never seen something so spectacular. Towering skyscrapers, multi-story stores and restaurants, gigantic billboards and neon signs. The streets were crowded with bumper-to-bumper traffic, and masses of pedestrians commuted across sidewalks. Growing up in such a laid back, beachfront town was so different compared to everything she was seeing now. She liked the change. The city was fast paced and exciting, bustling with activity. (Although, she could have done without the bright yellow taxis and their lack of driving skills when it came to people crossing the streets.) It suddenly made her aware that there was so much more out there in the world that she had yet to explore.

Lizzy fell into step between her mother and Sadie, who were leading the group with Michelle, Eleanor and Valerie following behind them. Prudence and Rita were in the back, ambling along with their arms slung over each other's shoulders. The girls were in the midst of their shopping excursion, scouring the shops for the best bargain deals and vintage clothing. They weren't going to find many inexpensive items in the heart of Times Square, but they could at least have_ fun _trying on all the overpriced, designer clothes they could get their hands on.

After going to a few high end clothing shops they made a stop at a designer dress store, each of them curious to see how costly the gowns could be. Sadie went off with Eleanor and Michelle to look at shoes and other accessories that were also there, while the rest of the girls started searching through the racks of dresses, glancing at the price tags inquisitively. Lizzy was amazed at the outrageous prices--she'd been to many a designer clothing store with Maggie Harrison over the years, but the amount of money that these dresses in New York City cost were unearthly high. For _their _level of income, at least. With the Harrisons' wealth, Maggie was always trying to buy Lizzy all of the most trendy, expensive clothing so she would "fit in" at school. Whereas, Lizzy preferred jeans and T-shirts--clothes that she wouldn't worry about getting covered in charcoal and paint.

However, trying on all of the cute prom dresses--which was apparently what a lot of these dresses were for--she could find was entertaining. Lizzy's prom was in the beginning of May, and she hadn't found a dress yet; she doubted she would be able to find a reasonably priced one at this store, but by trying some on she could get an idea of what styles and colors she liked.

Lizzy ended up picking out a light yellow, halter top dress that she showed to Lucy. She remembered before that her mother had said something about her favorite color being yellow, so she handed the dress to Lucy.

"Try it on." she told her.

Lucy scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, skeptical. "You're not serious."

"Oh, I'm totally serious," Lizzy replied. "Why? You don't like it?"

"It's beautiful," Lucy admitted. "But…I'm not nearly as skinny as I used to be."

Now it was Lizzy's turn to scoff. Was her mother kidding? Lizzy glanced at her mom from head to toe. She had _no_ idea what she was talking about. Lucy, who was in her mid to late thirties, was one of the youngest mothers of the students in Lizzy's class. Not to mention she was still in terrific shape, had a wonderful complexion, and curves that any other mother would kill for. Those were all traits that Lizzy was happy to have inherited. Like Lucy, she had a slender, curvy frame and clear, pale skin.

"_Puh-lease_. You'll look great in it. C'mon--I'll try one on, too."

"Only if I get to pick it out."

"Fair enough."

Lucy gave the yellow dress back to Lizzy to hold on to temporarily while she went through the racks looking for a dress for her daughter. When she returned, she held up a horrendously bright pink prom gown.

Lizzy made a face, scrunching up her nose in complete disgust. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing _that_. For someone who didn't like to call much attention to herself, that was a pretty flashy, loud dress.

"Out of all the colors, you just_ had _to choose _pink_, didn't you?"

"You said you'd try it on," Lucy reminded her. "Besides, I didn't get to pick out _that_ dress." She pointed to the yellow one.

"Yeah, but at least you _like_ yellow. And that dress is cute. This one…I feel like someone could be blinded by it."

"Come on, Miss Lizzy. You promised." Lucy grabbed a gentle but firm hold on Lizzy's arm and started dragging her toward the changing rooms, where Rita and Prudence had disappeared with an array of dresses a few minutes earlier. She handed the neon pink gown to Lizzy, who grudgingly went into one of the stalls.

"Do you have it on?" Lucy asked a good five minutes later, her voice muffled through the wall of the changing room beside Lizzy's.

"Yes." The eighteen-year-old answered quite miserably. After they counted to three, the mother-daughter pair walked out of their changing rooms to see how they looked. In Lizzy's opinion, her mother was absolutely gorgeous. The dress accentuated her curves and fit perfectly. Lizzy couldn't say the same for herself, unfortunately.

"Look at you." Lucy said, biting her bottom lip to stifle her giggles. Lizzy glanced down at her dress.

"It's okay, you can laugh," the teenager assented, giggling herself, "I look ridiculous." Overall, there was just way too much fabric. The dress was so poofy that she could most likely fit another person under there with her. She had even done a little experiment in the changing room before trying it on, and found that the dress could stand up on its own…

"I'm pretty sure this thing was supposed to be a tent, not a dress." Lizzy laughed. She was surprised she made it out of the changing room without hurting herself or ripping anything, because she couldn't see the floor past all the poofy fabric.

"All right, you have my permission to take it off now."

"Thank _God_…I'm itching like crazy…"

The group of women left the store shortly after Lizzy and Lucy had tried on their respective dresses. They couldn't leave until Michelle and Valerie settled a little argument they had had over a pair of earrings Michelle wanted. They were more than fifty dollars, and Michelle was having a hard time taking "no" for an answer after Val explained that they couldn't afford them right now. The argument ended when Sadie took her niece aside and told her she'd come back and but the earrings for her thirteenth birthday.

Once they hailed a cab, Prudence suggested that they go to a cool family-owned clothing boutique that she and Rita visited almost on a regular basis. The place had good prices and both new and vintage clothing, so it was well worth the drive across town. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison had given Lizzy spending money before she left, so she planned to use some of it to buy herself a new outfit for her "date" with Max, which was later tonight.

Sadie, Prudence, Rita, Lucy and Eleanor decided to help Lizzy pick out some clothes while Valerie and her daughter took the opportunity to search for much needed summer clothing for Michelle, since she had grown out of her old clothes from last year.

Lizzy really didn't want to wear a dress, and it was too warm for jeans. In the end, Prudence found her a light denim skirt and black, short leggings to go underneath. Lucy chose a black and red spaghetti strap tank top to match, and Sadie suggested that she wear her favorite jean jacket with it. And when it came time to pay, Lizzy's mom and aunts wouldn't let her use the money the Harrisons gave her. Instead, the four of them chipped in to purchase the ensemble for Lizzy, telling her it was a belated birthday gift. Lizzy thanked them profusely; she was excited to wear her new outfit tonight, yet she couldn't help but be a bit nervous about whatever her Uncle Max had up his sleeve.

* * *

It was eight o'clock at night, and Lizzy was sitting in the back of a taxi next to her uncle, who kept glancing impatiently out the window every five minutes. The teenager had no idea where Max was taking her (he was totally tight-lipped about the whole thing), but it was taking an awfully long time to get there. It was a wonder they had made it out of the house at all; Jude had told Max nearly ten times to "keep an eye on Lizzy". Apparently, he knew where they were headed, and was a little apprehensive about it. There was no doubt that Lizzy was, too. She and Max were in a very shady part of town, and she was almost positive that she'd seen a few "women of the night" standing on random street corners. For a few fleeting moments, she thought that her uncle was going to take her to a strip club or something--he was just that kind of guy.

When they finally pulled up to their destination, Lizzy saw a brick building with a flashing, lit up sign above its entrance that read, "Day Tripper". Except, the letter 'T' had burned out, so it read more like, "Day ripper". The teenager couldn't help but swallow hard, wondering how on earth her uncle had managed to find such a sketchy place.

Max had gotten out of his seat and had walked around the front of the cab to open his niece's door. She glanced up at him, a slight look of worry on her features. It wasn't that she didn't trust _him_--she didn't trust this _place_. Max could see the expression on her face, and laughed as she climbed out of the backseat of the taxi.

"Umm, Uncle Max? Where are we?"

"Relax, squirt. It's an eighteen and older club. I've been here before, thought you might like it--they usually have good music."

Lizzy nodded, sighing inwardly. She followed her uncle inside; he paid for them, and they walked down a dimly lit flight of stairs to the main room. The club was much like The Glass Onion back in Florida, except a little bigger, and the people were different. Many of the girls were scantily clad and dancing very inappropriately with their male partners. Lizzy did her best to ignore the numerous PDA's (among _other_ things) she saw while they pushed their way through the crowd, and kept close to Max. Unlike The Glass Onion, the atmosphere didn't seem as comforting and laid back. The only similarities between the two that she could see was that half its patrons were drunk and/or stoned, and the music_ was _good.

Max seemed to notice her unease, and turned to offer her a reassuring smile. "Lizzy, loosen up. C'mon, have fun! You're an adult now!" he exclaimed. He appeared to be more excited about this fact than she was. "I'm gonna get us something to drink. Don't move, or your dad'll have my ass if something happens to you." Lizzy rolled her eyes, and watched him disappear into the crowd in the direction of the bar. She stood waiting patiently, trying to ignore the raunchy dancing. She let herself focus more on the music to block everything else out.

When the elder Carrigan returned, he was carrying a beer for himself and a glass for Lizzy, which was filled with some kind of brightly colored liquid. He handed it to her, and she peered into the glass questioningly, sniffing at it a little. A strong odor assailed her nostrils, indicating that whatever he had given her, it had alcohol in it, and she was most certainly under the drinking age of 21.

"Uncle Max, I'm pretty sure this is illegal…"

Max shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time I've done something illegal."

"Well _that's_ reassuring."

"Liz, you _stole_ a car. A few drinks aren't going to hurt. It's not like you're driving anywhere. I wont get you completely shitfaced, I promise."

Lizzy was still hesitant. She had never consumed any alcohol in her life, aside from a few small glasses of wine during the holidays. She had no clue as to what was in this drink, but she took a fast gulp of it. The liquid was warm and burned her throat slightly on the way down. After a couple more sips, she was feeling buzzed. Max didn't help by buying her another drink once she was finished with the first one. And when she had consumed the two glasses of whatever fruity, alcoholic concoction he had given her, Max towed her out to the dance floor to enjoy the live band playing on stage. Neither Max nor Lizzy knew what the band's name was, but they were playing this crazy little upbeat song that had the entire club dancing madly.

The lead singer had a rough, but strong voice and was practically screaming the lyrics:

"_Come on, come on  
come on, come on  
Come on is such a joy  
come on is such a joy  
come on it take it easy  
come on is take it easy  
Take it easy  
Take is easy  
Everybody's got something to hide  
except for me and my monkey  
Hey_

_Hah, the deeper you go  
the higher you fly  
The higher you fly  
the deeper you go _

_So come on, come on  
Come on is such a joy  
come on is such a joy  
come on it make it easy  
come on is make it easy  
Take it easy  
Take is easy  
Everybody's got something to hide  
except for me and my monkey  
Hey…"_

Max and Lizzy were thoroughly enjoying themselves; Max hadn't been out to a club and dancing like this in awhile, and it felt good to be his old self again.

"_Your inside is out  
and your outside is in  
Your outside is in  
and your inside is out__  
__Take it easy  
Take is easy  
Everybody's got something to hide  
except for me and my monkey  
Hey  
Come on, come on, come on, come on…" _

So come on, ha, come on, ha  
Come on is such a joy  
come on is such a joy  
come on it make it easy  
come on is make it easy

Once the lead singer screamed the last "come on", the song ended and the club erupted in a loud applause. Lizzy looked over to her uncle, intent on telling him how good the band sounded, only Max wasn't there anymore. Lizzy panicked, knowing that somewhere during the course of the last song, the two of them had gotten separated. With her heart rate starting to pick up, the teenager stood on her tiptoes in search of her shaggy haired uncle. No matter how high she tried to jump above the crowd, she just couldn't see past anyone. Lizzy began pushing her way through, and while doing so, she felt a hand reach out and pinch her ass. Lizzy turned sharply on her heel--she was _not_ going to tolerate some sleazy asshole trying to violate her.

The man who had committed the act looked to be a lot older than Lizzy; probably in his mid twenties, with straggly shoulder length brown hair and cold, gray eyes that had a glazed over look in them. She knew he had been smoking a joint and was now high enough to hit on younger women, the sicko. He was wearing worn jeans and a T-shirt that had the sleeves cut off to show off his massive biceps. He also had a tattoo of a fierce looking bulldog on one of his muscular arms.

"Hey there." he had this disgusting smirk on his face that made Lizzy sick to her stomach.

"Lay off, pal." Lizzy warned him.

"You're lookin' pretty tonight. Ya new here? I don't think I've seen ya 'round here before."

"Umm…" Lizzy's azure eyes darted nervously around the room, desperately seeking out Max.

"What'd ya say 'bout me an' you getting outta here, huh? I can show you a better time…"

"_Oh-kay_! That's enough…" she exclaimed, eyes widening. It was definitely time for her to hightail it out of there before things got even more sketchy. The guy was giving her the creeps. She tried to scramble away from his presence, but he caught her roughly by the forearm and clearly had no intentions of letting her go so easily. Lizzy stared at him in horror.

"Let go of me!" she ordered, trying to free her arm from his iron-like grip. He didn't respond the way she might've hoped. Instead, he pulled her closer, trailing his other hand up her backside. "You pervert! _Let me go_!"

All of a sudden, a fist came out of nowhere, colliding with the side of the guy's face. Lizzy turned to see her uncle standing there, glaring daggers at the man who had dared to touch his niece in such an inappropriate manner. Lizzy couldn't help but grin as she was released from the guy's grip once he stumbled back a few steps. Unfortunately, the guy approached the teenager again, wiping blood from his nose. He glowered at Max, taking Lizzy by the wrist.

"_Hey_," the man spat, giving Max an angry shove, "You're just gonna have to wait your turn, buddy."

That comment didn't sit well with Max Carrigan. He made a promise to Jude, and he wasn't about to break it. He went off on the guy, furious. "You fucking bastard, she's my _niece_!" The guy let go of Lizzy again, and she jumped out of the way, letting her uncle beat the living crap out of him. Max took a couple of nasty punches that would result in a black eye later on, and by the time the club security came, his nose and lip were bleeding. However, the other guy looked much worse; Lizzy was almost certain her Uncle Max had bruised a couple of his ribs.

The club security broke up the fight, asking Max to leave, while the creepy guy was escorted out a different exit. Lizzy and Max left in a hurry, with Lizzy's arm around her uncle's back as they walked out. He was hunched over from a particularly hard punch to the stomach which he was slowly trying to shake off. Lizzy ordered him to stop walking once they put some distance behind them, and Max tried to catch his breath.

"What a fucking asshole," he muttered, bent over, panting. He straightened himself out, and glanced over at his niece. "You okay, squirt?"

"I'm fine. Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm _awesome_," he replied sarcastically. "Although, I'm not gonna lie…it makes me sick to think of what could've happened to you if I hadn't gotten there in time." He wiped blood from his cut lip, wincing ever so slightly. "_Shit_."

"I'm proud of you, Uncle Max," Lizzy smiled. "You really kicked that guy's ass."

Max cracked a smile. "He didn't know who he was messin' with."

They started walking again in silence for some time, until Lizzy spoke. "Sorry our little night on the town didn't go as planned."

"Don't apologize, Lizzy. It wasn't your fault," he reassured her. "C'mon…let's get home."

When they arrived back at Lucy and Jude's apartment, Valerie was sitting with the two of them in their living room, waiting up for Max. Max Jr. had fallen asleep on the couch in her lap, and Michelle was sleeping back in their own apartment. The three adults were quick to notice that one of Max's eyes was slowly turning an ugly shade of purple, and his bloody nose and cut lip. Valerie's eyes widened, horrified.

"Max, what happened to you?" she asked, concerned.

"He got into a little fight at the club we went to." Lizzy explained as Max plopped down into a chair.

"Some jerk tried to put the moves on Lizzy," Max elaborated. "And let's just say this guy wasn't anywhere _near_ eighteen."

Jude paled. "He didn't hurt ya, did he, love?" he asked. Lizzy shook her head 'no'.

"Uncle Max got there just in time."

"Well, I would hunt this bloke down and beat him into a bloody pulp, but I see you've already done that." Jude observed, approaching Max. Lucy stood and placed her hand over Max's, a look of extreme gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank you, Max."

The elder Carrigan shrugged. "Hey…that's what uncles are for."

* * *

**A/N: Liked it?…I hope Max was in character; he's always hard to write for. Anyway, time for me to insert a small shameless plug: I have a new Max/OC fic posted called "Anna, Go To Him". Please read it and let me know what you think! It should turn out to be a pretty good fic once the story gets going…thanks!**


	22. Do You Want to Know a Secret?

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the characters you don't recognize from the movie.**

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews--they're always great inspiration to keep writing! This is a bit of a filler chapter, but it's cute…enjoy!**

"He did _what_?"

Lizzy couldn't help but laugh a little at Paul's exasperated voice coming from the other end of the phone. She was sitting in a chair near by the phone that was attached to the kitchen wall, sketchpad balanced in her lap, pencil tucked behind her free ear. A few days had passed since the incident at the club; she was reluctant to tell her boyfriend what happened but figured he had a right to know.

"Paul, I'm fine."

"Lizzy, some random dude hit on you—it's my _job_ to be pissed," he explained. "If I were there, you know that guy would be out cold the minute he laid his hand on you."

"Oh, don't worry…Uncle Max did a number on him."

"I'm glad _someone_ did," he sighed. "How old was he, anyway?"

"Uh…I'd say about twenty six, twenty seven."

"That's sick, Lizzy. Really."

"Hey, the guy was stoned out of his mind. It's not like I initiated the whole thing," she said, smirking although he couldn't see it. "I like you too much."

Paul laughed. "Good to know."

The line went silent for a few moments; Lizzy stared down at the paper her sketchbook was turned to—a half finished drawing of her cousin, Max Jr., which she had started yesterday. Valerie had come over for a lunch date with Lucy, and brought Max and Michelle along because Max Sr. was working. Little Max had fallen asleep and Lizzy decided to sketch him, because he looked so cute spread out across the couch.

"So, when're you coming h—back?" Paul asked at last. Lizzy knew he was choosing his words wisely, knowing that technically Florida wasn't her real home. Come June, she would be living in New York City with her biological parents and relatives.

"Hmm, someone sounds like they're a bit lonely," Lizzy laughed. "You miss me already? I've only been gone for a week."

"It's been a long week."

"Well, I'll be back late next week," she replied just as Lucy shuffled into the apartment, arms laden with brown paper bags full of groceries. "Listen, I gotta go, but I'll call you again in a few days, okay? Love you."

"Love you, too," he replied. "Bye."

Lizzy stood and hung up the phone, placing her sketchbook onto the chair before approaching her mother. Lucy was in the process of taking the groceries out of the bags and putting the items away in their respective spots. The teenager took a bag and began pulling the items out to help make the task go faster.

"Mom," Lizzy questioned, in the middle of setting a box of cereal on a shelf in one of the cabinets above the sink, "would it be all right if I ask Eleanor and Michelle over tonight? I've been thinking that it would be cool for the three of us to have a sleepover or something. Other than shopping, I haven't had a chance to really hang out with them."

Lucy smiled. "I bet they'd like that," she agreed. "The phone numbers are in the address book in the drawer over there. You can tell the girls that they're welcome to come to dinner."

Once the groceries were properly put away, Lizzy grabbed the phone book from the drawer closest to the phone and looked up the numbers. She decided to call Michelle first, since she came across her number before Eleanor's. It turned out that Valerie answered the phone first.

"Hello?"

"Aunt Val, it's Lizzy."

"Oh! Hey, Lizzy! What's going on?"

"I was actually wondering if Michelle would like to come over for a sleepover tonight. I'm inviting Eleanor, too, so it'll be the three of us."

"That sounds like fun," Val replied. "Hold on, I'll go ask her."

Lizzy heard the sound of the phone being set down, followed by some muffled voices. Val returned a minute later, saying, "She's excited. She said she'd definitely come. What time?"

"My mom said the girls can have dinner with us, so…about five o'clock?"

"Okay. We'll see you then."

The teenager hung up and then dialed Eleanor's number. After several rings, someone finally picked up.

"Hello? Jimi speaking."

The similarities between the sound of Jimi's voice to JoJo's voice threw Lizzy off for a second. The boy was seriously becoming more and more like his father everyday.

"Hey, Jimi, it's Lizzy. Is your sister around?"

"Yeah, she's here somewhere…let me go get her…"

The phone was placed down, but unlike the muffled voices she heard at the Carrigan household, Lizzy heard distinct shouting coming from Jimi. He was truly a typical teenage boy--not moving to go and physically find his sister.

"Elle! Phone!" he yelled.

It was kind of funny for Lizzy to hear what was going on. She discerned what she thought was Jimi and Eleanor arguing over something, then there were a lot of strange noises as the young girl picked up the phone.

"Hey, Liz, what's up?"

"Just wanted to know if you're up for a sleepover at my house tonight."

"Oh, cool," Eleanor answered. Lizzy could tell that she sounded a lot like her mother, in the words that she chose and how she spoke. Suddenly, there was an explosion of electric guitar in the background that caused Eleanor to groan. "Ugh, hold on a sec my brother's being a jerk--Jimi, _turn it down_! I'm on the _phone_!"

"I'm guessing you'd enjoy a night off from your brother?" Lizzy asked, half-laughing.

"Yeah," Eleanor agreed. "I'd love to come. Need me to bring anything?"

"Not anything specific besides maybe a sleeping bag…whatever you want to bring is fine…movies, makeup…whatever."

"'kay. What time?"

"Five-ish. My mom's cooking dinner for us."

"Awesome. See ya later!"

Lizzy hung up, placing the phone back on the wall. She put the address book back and walked into the living room, where Lucy was cleaning up a bit.

"How many extra places do we need to set at the table?" she asked once she noticed Lizzy had entered the room.

"Two," Lizzy stated, flopping onto the couch. "and they're both really excited about it. I am, too. I haven't had a real sleepover since I was in grade school."

"And you don't mind hanging out with two twelve-year-olds?"

"Nah," Lizzy said, dismissing it, "It's all the same, no matter what age you are. Movies, junk food…gossip. It'll be fun."

Lucy nodded. "You know, you better warn your father about this sleepover…since there's going to be a surplus of estrogen in the apartment tonight…"

Lizzy just laughed.

* * *

"Your room gets cooler every time I see it." Eleanor observed, tossing her bag, pillow, and sleeping bag onto the floor beside Michelle's stuff. They were just getting settled, having finished dinner a few minutes ago.

Lizzy shrugged; she was currently trying to make her bed look decent, since she hadn't made it this morning. "It's nothing. Just something I started when I first got here. I've been working on it again for the past couple of days." she said. The beach scene that occupied one of the walls was now finished, and she had started filling another wall with skyscrapers and things she'd seen in Times Square. There was also a bulletin board near her bed which held an assortment of pictures.

Michelle plopped down beside Eleanor on the now freshly made bed. "Do you have any new drawings?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," The eighteen-year-old answered, moving over to her bedside table, where she had left her sketchbook earlier. While maneuvering back around the bed, she flipped to the most recent drawing. "It's your brother," Lizzy told Michelle. "Remember when he fell asleep here yesterday?" She gave the sketchbook to Michelle.

Michelle nodded, looking down at the drawing of her younger brother. Eleanor peered over her shoulder, curious. "Whoa," Michelle said, her eyes scanning the page, "It looks just like him."

"Thanks. I tried…it's not perfect, but--"

"It looks pretty perfect to me," Eleanor mused. "I'd love to draw as well as you can."

Lizzy shrugged again, ever the humble artist. "You write stories," the teenager pointed out, "_I_ can't do that really well. I bet you'll be a famous novelist someday."

"And you'll be an awesome art teacher," Eleanor said. "Michelle will probably be the makeup stylist for all the celebrities."

Michelle giggled. "I can live with that," she decided. "And…I think Jimi will be a famous musician like your parents. But Max…I'm not sure about him."

The three girls shared a laugh. It was true. Max was only seven, but his interests changed daily, and he was as wild and rambunctious as his father so it was hard to tell what he'd turn out to be.

"Okay," Lizzy said, sitting down beside her cousins, "What do you wanna do now? I think it's too early for movies and junk food."

"Can I paint your nails?" Michelle piped up.

Eleanor put a hand to her forehead, and shook her head. "How'd I know _that _was coming?"

Michelle hooked an arm around Eleanor's shoulders. "'Cause you know me too well," she replied. "Anyway, I brought _a ton _of nail polish."

So, Lizzy agreed to let Michelle paint her fingernails, while Eleanor preferred to paint her own. Five minutes later, the three of them were sitting on the floor in Lizzy's bedroom with a bunch of paper towels spread out and Michelle's entire nail polish collection in front of them. Lizzy let her cousin pick the color, as there were way too many to choose from. Michelle decided on a cerulean blue to match the color of Lizzy's eyes, and got to work. Eleanor picked out Michelle's half full bottle of tangerine colored polish which Max had spilled several months back and began painting her own nails.

Unsurprisingly, the girls found themselves gossiping about school, friends, and crushes as they painted their nails. Eleanor and Michelle attended the same school, so they knew the same people and teachers, and pretty much shared similar opinions about them. Lizzy was a bit surprised to discover that for seventh graders, they had a lot of drama. Well, drama that they'd overheard, anyway. Catty girls and their boyfriends, friends betraying friends and all that.

"It's the same in high school, I'm sorry to say," Lizzy told them with a sigh, just as Michelle was finishing up the last coat on her fingernails. She would have to wait for them to dry before she could paint her toenails. "So, do you two have boyfriends? Guys in your class that you have a crush on?"

Eleanor shook her head no. "No boyfriend, although I have a few friends who are guys. That's about it."

Michelle bit her lip, her eyes focused on the bottles of nail polish rather than Eleanor and Lizzy. A slight blush had crept onto her cheeks, and hadn't gone unnoticed by either of her cousins.

"Michelle, you're _blushing_." Eleanor announced, nudging the young girl in the arm, a smirk on her face.

"Am not."

Lizzy giggled. "You are! Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Are you hiding a secret boyfriend from us?" Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," the twelve-year-old answered. "but I _do_ have a crush on this boy…"

Eleanor practically squealed with excitement. "Spill. _Now_," she demanded. "Who is it?"

Michelle hesitated, biting her lip again. "John."

"John McCartney?" Eleanor questioned, as there was more than one John in their grade. Michelle nodded. "Aww. I can see why. He _is_ cute."

"You should talk to him," Lizzy suggested. "Maybe ask him if he'd like to hang out with you sometime."

Michelle shrugged. "Maybe…"

"You'll never know what'll happen if you don't try." she advised, remembering Sadie's own advice to her when she was struggling to figure out her relationship with Paul.

After Lizzy's nails were dry, she went into the kitchen to get them some food--mostly chips and cheese puffs and other junk. The house was quiet; Jude had left some time ago, complaining about the amount of teenage and pre-teenage girls in the house and jokingly saying that he could only handle one… Lucy was in their bedroom, probably reading. She hadn't stayed in the living room just in case the girls wanted to use the T.V. to watch a movie.

But they never really got around to watching any movies. They were up until well after four in the morning, talking about other things like favorite bands, colors, movies, television shows. The conversations led to completely random side discussions, and by that time neither of the three knew what they had been talking about in the first place. Once midnight rolled around, they had both their fingernails and toenails painted, and had moved on to creating different hairstyles for each other. The girls were on a junk food high--which resulted in a small pillow fight somewhere in between one and two in the morning--and had no intention of going to bed early.

Except for when they finally crashed, which was around four-thirty. When Lucy came in several hours later to check on them, she discovered that Eleanor's and Michelle's sleeping bags were unnecessary. Lizzy, Michelle and Eleanor had all fallen asleep on Lizzy's bed. Lizzy and Eleanor were sleeping with their backs to each other, and Michelle was sleeping horizontally, sprawled across their legs, with her hair half braided. There was also an array of empty bags strewn on the floor, proof of their junk food high.

Lucy could only smile, remembering the numerous times she, Prudence, Rita and Sadie had had these kinds of sleepovers. And Lizzy was right: it _was_ the same, no matter what age you were.

**A/N: Sorry, no trivia question...I'll have to think of a hard one. Anyway--please review! :)**


	23. Misery

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. **

**A/N: Very sorry for the long delay. I promise I'll try to be faster with the updates. This chapter's really short, but I wanted to get something up. Next chapter will be longer. To make up for the long wait and the short chapter, I do have a trivia question at the end! Enjoy!**

Two days had passed since Lizzy's sleepover with her cousins. Lucy and Jude--ever the cute, affectionate couple--were sitting on the old, worn out couch in their living room cuddling when their daughter entered. She was holding a folder containing some important documents, as well as a few other things that needed to be discussed. Maggie and Charlie Harrison had entrusted her with this folder, telling her the documents inside were to be signed by her parents. It was the final stage in settling the adoption issue. The papers would officially give Lucy and Jude custody of Lizzy once again.

Lucy and Jude parted so that Lizzy could settle in between them. Jude stared at the folder inquisitively, raising an eyebrow. "Whatcha got there, love?" he asked.

"Papers for you and Mom to sign," she stated, opening it up. "About the adoption and whatnot. And getting my last name changed."

Lizzy noticed the faint smile on both of her parents' faces. She knew that the two of them were equally happy about the fact that Lizzy was going to share their last name once again.

Lucy draped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "That means you'll graduate from high school as Elizabeth Julia _Feeny_."

"Speaking of which," Lizzy said when she remembered what else was in the folder, "I have graduation tickets. The courtyard in the back of the school isn't that big, so they're limiting the number of people each student can have there. The maximum is eight, which means we can't bring _everybody_."

And by everybody, she meant her entire immediate family, which was quite a few people. Including her cousins, there were twelve of them. Plus the Harrisons, which made fourteen. The Harrisons offered to pay for everyone's plane tickets both ways, and they had enough room in the house to accommodate everyone as well. All Lizzy and her parents had to do was decide who was going to come to the ceremony.

"I'm sure they'll understand the circumstances." Lucy assured her.

"I know," she agreed. "But how are we going to decide?"

"Well, there's me and your mum, obviously. And the Harrisons. That takes up four…" Jude said.

"And Max and Valerie; I'm sure they can get someone to watch the kids. They are your biological aunt and uncle, so…"

"Yeah, that makes sense. Then we still have two seats left."

"I couldn't possibly ask me mum to fly in all the way from Liverpool." Jude declared. Lizzy nodded, understanding.

"I don't want to have to choose between everyone else, either." The eighteen-year-old affirmed.

Lucy bit her lip, not sure whether to voice the suggestion that had been forming in her head since they started naming members of their family. She didn't want to recommend it, but she figured they had as much a right to be there as anyone else. They were family, after all. Even if they hadn't seen Lizzy in years, and the last time she and Max visited was three years ago. They hadn't left on a very great note, either. She thought now was a good a time as any for a reunion.

Lucy sighed. "We could always ask my parents." She shared a look with Jude, who had a completely objective expression on his face at the mention of Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan. They were nice people, really. However, they weren't exactly crazy about the lives that their two children had built in New York, and the friends they'd associated themselves with. They had been reluctant to come to New York before Lizzy left, and hadn't actually stated their true opinions on certain matters related to the situation until their visit three years ago. A visit that had involved a lot of yelling and arguing and Lucy, Jude, Max, and Valerie storming out the front door, Max Jr. and Michelle in tow.

"Luce, I'm not so sure if that's such a great idea."

"Maybe it'll be better this time," Lucy replied. "I mean, they'll be happy to know that Lizzy is going to college."

"Possibly. I just don't want to drag her there, and have her get hurt."

Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan's words ran through Jude's head as clearly as they had been that day three years ago. They had made some rude comments about how they had disapproved of Lucy and Jude marrying and having a child so young. They also chose to comment on Lucy and Jude's decision to give Lizzy up for adoption, saying something along the lines of 'That child ruined your chances of building a successful future'--basically calling them irresponsible and deeming Lizzy as a 'mistake' that never should've been made. Jude didn't want Lizzy to be subjected to that.

Lizzy, of course, was confused by her parents' conversation. "Hurt _how_?" she inquired.

Jude ruffled Lizzy's hair, offering her a lopsided grin. "Never mind that, Lizzy," he said to her. "It's just that me and your mum don't get along with your grandparents all that well."

"It's up to you, though, honey. If you want to ask, we can ask them to come."

Lizzy shrugged. "I'd like to meet them."

Jude threw Lucy a nervous look, but didn't say anything. She stood, placing the folder that she had been looking through on the table. "I'm calling Max," she explained. "Maybe if Max, Valerie and the kids go, it'll make things more bearable."

"Strength in numbers." Jude laughed. Lucy nodded, and walked over to the phone, where she dialed Max and Valerie's number.

"Hello?" Max's voice asked from the other end.

"Hey, Max."

"Oh, hey, Luce. What's up?"

"I have a question for you, but I don't think you're going to like it."

"Try me."

"I wanted to know if you and Val wanted to take the kids and come with us to visit Mom and Dad."

There was a long pause, which Lucy had kind of expected.

"_Why_?"

"Lizzy wants to ask them to her graduation."

"Again, I ask you: _why_?"

"Max, they're her grandparents. She wants to meet them."

"Last time _I_ checked, they weren't so interested in being her grandparents, Lucy."

"I know," she sighed. "But maybe we can make things right this time."

Max exhale noisily, not liking the idea very much. "After three years, do you really think they've accepted that their kids aren't the Ivy League scholars they'd wanted them to be?"

"Probably not," Lucy answered. "Lizzy is going to college, though. They might approve of that. And they might like the fact that we're supporting her again."

Max thought it over. Not only had his parents openly disapproved of Lucy and Jude's situation, but they had also commented on his and Val's life, in front of his kids, no less. As much as he didn't want to bring Val, Michelle and Max back there, he didn't want his sister, his best friend and his niece to be fed to the sharks--so to speak--alone.

"Maybe," he agreed, although bitterly. "But if they so much as try to start _anything_, we're outta there. Got it?"

"Yeah," Lucy replied. "Thanks, Max."

"Mmm-hmm. So, what's the plan? When do you wanna leave?"

"As soon as possible--to, you know, get it over with. Besides, Lizzy doesn't have that much time left on break."

"Tomorrow afternoon?"

"It's a good a time as any," she said. "See you then."

Lucy hung up the phone and shuffled into the living room. Jude was trying to pry the details of Lizzy's painting out of her, and she wasn't budging. She was repeatedly telling him that he had to wait to see it when they came for Prom. Lucy and Jude planned to head up to Florida earlier than the rest of the family in order to see Lizzy and Paul go to their senior prom, which was about two weeks before graduation.

Lucy stood in front of them, hands on her hips. "Pack your bags," she said, in a sarcastically pleasant tone, "We're leaving tomorrow on what I'm _sure_ is going to be a fun-filled family reunion."

**A/N: I hope it wasn't too bad. Okay, here's the trivia question (I got it off a website, btw): What was the working title for the song "Yesterday"? **


	24. Cry for a Shadow

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything.**

**A/N: Congrats to anyone who answered "Scrambled Eggs" for the question!**

The drive to the Carrigans' house was pretty much uneventful, beside the fact that they had to figure out how to cram seven people into Max and Valerie's station wagon. Lizzy attempted to sleep for most of the ride—_attempted_ being the key word. She sat squished between little Max and Michelle, and Max was trying to sleep, too, only he kept thrashing around while doing so. Because of her younger cousin's constant flailing, Lizzy got smacked repeatedly in the face and arms, causing her to wake up when she had finally begun to drift off. So, she gave up altogether more than halfway through, and took to staring out the window and having sporadic conversations with the adults.

When they pulled into the driveway, Lizzy felt her stomach twisting into knots. She was terribly nervous, especially after seeing her parents' attitudes toward the visit—particularly Jude's. Lizzy wondered how her grandparents would react to this impromptu reunion and seeing their long lost granddaughter. Judging from the overall mood of the adults in the car, things were going to be _interesting_.

Hesitantly, the group filed out of the vehicle, with Max mumbling something about how they should leave their bags in the car, just in case. Jude and Lucy agreed, knowing that would work out best if the visit didn't go well and they needed to leave quickly.

They walked to the door like troops marching into battle. Lucy and Max led them up the path to the front door, trying to keep their expressions stoic. Valerie and Jude were behind their significant others, Max was clutching his mother's hand, and Michelle and Lizzy rounded out the group, giving each other tense glances as they strode in the back.

Lucy and Max both took a deep breath before the elder sibling reached out to knock on the door. Max had been silently praying that they wouldn't be home while they were approaching the house. Unfortunately, that hope vanished when they heard the distinct sound of Mrs. Carrigan's high heels connecting with the hardwood floor and the click of the lock opening.

Mrs. Carrigan appeared a moment later. Shock wouldn't have been the correct word to describe the look on her face. She was way_ past_ shock. Lizzy peered out from behind her father's tall form to discreetly look at the woman who was her grandmother. Somehow, she reminded her of Maggie Harrison. Both women wore the same type of classy, proper clothing, except Mrs. Carrigan's outfit had been complete with a set of real pearls that hung around her neck. Her blond hair that was just a shade darker than Lucy's was streaked with gray, and the lines on her face were evidence of her old age.

For a brief second, Mrs. Carrigan's gaze met Lizzy's. Lizzy noticed and immediately went back to her original spot, hidden behind Jude. Mrs. Carrigan opened her mouth to speak, but Lucy beat her to the punch.

"Hi, Mom," Lucy said as cheerfully as she could manage, "I hope we're not intruding."

Mrs. Carrigan smiled, but it was incredibly forced. "Not at all. Come in," she opened the door wider, observing the family members who stood on her doorstep. "Hello, Maxwell." Max grumbled a response, and Lizzy wasn't quite sure if he had said something that even resembled any form of a polite greeting.

The seven of them stepped into the house; Lizzy pulled Jude's hat on tighter, her face shadowed by the hat and her hair. She peered out from under the brim, examining the Carrigans' stately home. She definitely felt that her grandparents would get along with the Harrisons. Their home had all sorts of expensive furniture, and the place seemed more…proper. More old fashioned, in a way.

They stood awkwardly in the living room, staring at each other--or, in Max's case, becoming interested in the wallpaper patterns. Mr. Carrigan entered the room just as Mrs. Carrigan was going on about how much Michelle and Max had grown. She hadn't looked in Lizzy's direction since they had made eye contact outside. Lizzy stood out of the way, feeling a bit out of place. She was currently questioning whether this was such a good idea after all. She wasn't feeling very welcome.

"What's this? My children come home to visit their parents?" There was a hint of surprise in Mr. Carrigan's voice, laced with a bit of sarcasm. He gave Lucy and Valerie somewhat of an awkward hug, and apprehensive handshakes to Max and Jude. Then, he embraced his grandchildren--two out of the three--warmly, offering them each a smile.

Lizzy was confused. Obviously, there had been a large argument between the adults three years ago. Now, her grandparents were acting as if it hadn't happened at all, although their reluctant actions showed that they didn't truly forget. And they were ignoring her in the process. She didn't think they were ignoring her on purpose. She thought that maybe they didn't know how to react to her being there. Either that, or her grandparents didn't recognize her as Lucy and Jude's child. But how could they _not_ know? She clearly had visible traits from each parent; there was no mistaking that.

Lucy saw her daughter's unease and walked over to her, laying a hand on Lizzy's shoulder. "Mom, Dad," she began, "You remember Lizzy, right?" Lucy grimaced at her own choice of words, the statement sounding strange to her. She didn't know how else to put it without being too rude. 'You remember Lizzy, right? Your granddaughter, whom I gave birth to eighteen years ago? The one you called a mistake?' That didn't quite work. She didn't want to open up _that_ wound again. Not when Lizzy was standing in the same room. She didn't want her to know about the hurtful things her grandparents had said.

"Of course," Mrs. Carrigan said at last. She and her husband approached Lizzy; Mrs. Carrigan put on her fake smile for the second time. "My, how you've grown, dear."

"Nice to see you again, Lizzy." Mr. Carrigan stated, shaking Lizzy's hand. No hug, no tearful hello like she had received when she showed up at the apartment building a on Christmas Eve. Just a handshake and a couple of half-hearted greetings. All Lizzy could do was plaster on her own forced grin and curse inwardly. This was hardly the welcome she had hoped for.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzy caught Max shaking his head. She averted her gaze to the floor while Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan attempted to make small talk with the rest of the adults.

"Lucy!" A new, feminine voice suddenly called, "Max!"

Lizzy's head snapped up to see who the newcomer was. A young woman in her late twenties with long, wavy blond hair bounded into the living room, her orange sundress flowing behind her. She practically tackled Max and Lucy, flinging her arms around their necks. Both Lucy and Max were thankful, however, for their sister's sudden presence; she had temporarily broken the tension building in the room.

"How's my baby sister?" Max asked. It was the first time Lizzy had seen her uncle smile since they'd arrived.

Julia flashed him a lopsided grin. "I'm hardly a baby anymore, Max." Max only chuckled, hooking his arm around his sister's shoulders.

"Oh, Julia," Lucy said, observing her younger sister from head to toe, "Look at you." She could hardly believe how grown up her little sister was.

Julia gave Jude and Valerie an equally enthusiastic hug before crouching down to say hello to her niece and nephew. When she finally got to her feet, Julia saw the eighteen-year-old who was choosing to be a bit antisocial at the moment. She couldn't blame her, though. There were a few times Julia had heard her parents talking badly about her elder siblings' lives, and she hated it.

"Lizzy!" Julia immediately pounced on the teenager, elated. Lizzy didn't know quite what to make of this, but she hugged Julia back anyway. It was the first warm welcome she'd received since she had stepped into the house. Plus, Julia came across as an energetic, kind person, and Lizzy felt comfortable in her presence.

"What are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again!" She gave the young girl another squeeze. Unbeknownst to Lizzy, Julia had been pretty broken up over her departure from the family. Lizzy was her first niece, and Julia had been excited about being an aunt at such a young age. After Lizzy was born, Julia had persuaded Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan to let her go to New York for a few weeks, and there, she spent a lot of time with her. More time than either of her parents could account for. Therefore, Julia had formed a deeper bond with Lizzy, making it harder to see her leave.

Lucy beamed at the sight, knowing how much her sister had adored Lizzy. "That's actually one of the reasons why we're here." she announced, not only addressing Julia but also her parents.

"We're taking custody of Lizzy again," Jude explained. "She's coming to New York after graduation to live with us."

Julia's grin got wider, if that was even remotely possible. "That's great!" she said. "I can come visit you now!" Lizzy could practically see the gears turning in her aunt's head, knowing that she was probably already planning out various days that they could spend together. Not that she minded; Julia seemed like a fun person to be around.

"Are you heading off to college?" Julia inquired, wanting to catch up with teenager after so many years had been missed.

Lizzy nodded. "The School of Visual Arts. It's in Manhattan," she told her aunt. "I want to be an art teacher."

Jude glanced over at his in-laws to see their faces. He wanted to witness their reactions as his daughter declared that she was going to major in art. It wasn't something that they approved of--at least not when it concerned himself.

Jude knew that the Carrigans had expected Lucy to marry someone like her previous boyfriend, Daniel. Someone wealthy, and well educated. Someone who had a good, steady job or career. Jude didn't exactly fit that perfect description. And when Lucy and Jude showed up on their doorstep _married,_ the Carrigans weren't very happy, especially since they had only met the artistic Brit once, before Max had dragged him off to the city.

Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan knew he was a polite, sweet boy. But they had no idea how he was going to support himself and their daughter with the kind of lifestyle they led. Lucy only had a witnessing job, and Jude was just an artist. As far as they were concerned, being an artist was a hobby, not a legitimate career choice. They were too young to be making a such a huge commitment to each other. The fact that Jude hadn't asked for Lucy's hand, and that they hadn't informed the Carrigans of their sudden marriage didn't sit well with them, either.

Mrs. Carrigan's expression was a mix of frustration and disappointment. Jude felt smug, knowing that secretly they probably had been hoping for Lizzy to become a doctor, or at least a teacher of something more "respectable".

"A teacher, hmm?" Mr. Carrigan put in, "Good for you." He was attempting to sound excited about it, perhaps putting on a better front than his wife, who was blatantly uncomfortable with the whole situation that was unfolding. Her kids and their families showing up randomly at their house after three years of not speaking to them? With Lucy's daughter?

A period of silence fell among the group, in which everyone tried to avoid looking at each other. Mrs. Carrigan couldn't take it anymore. "Dinner's almost ready," she stated, plastering on the fake smile. "Will you be joining us? I can set more places."

"Sounds great." Lucy said, throwing a look at Max, who had yet to say a single word to their parents.

So, they all sat down to eat dinner together at the Carrigans' spacious dining room table. As if the initial meeting hadn't been awkward enough, dinner was even worse. It would've been _really _bad if it weren't for Julia initiating conversations and being the only one genuinely happy to see her siblings and their families. And, Lizzy _did_ get some enjoyment out of seeing little Max and Michelle having a mini food fight at their end of the table, which had been started by Max Sr., of course. Valerie kept shooting all three of them death glares, afraid of such behavior in front of Max's parents.

There were a few points during the meal where Lizzy actually spoke to her grandfather, when he asked her about her art and the college she was going to attend. Then, that led to an uncomfortable talk between Jude and Mr. Carrigan about college finances. They hadn't even had the chance to discuss graduation, much less invite them.

What made Lizzy uneasy was Mrs. Carrigan watching her every move. It was like she was the "bad" child just because she had to be raised by a different family for a long period of time. Like she didn't actually _belong_ here. Lizzy knew that she wasn't particularly fond of her father, and that was most likely the reason why she was giving her weird looks--because Lizzy took after Jude a lot. However, she was very much like Lucy as well. Strong-willed, stubborn, sympathetic toward her friends, determined. Mrs. Carrigan just couldn't see that.

Lizzy did her best to ignore the stares, and joined Lucy's and Julia's conversation, where Julia was gushing about her fiancé, Henry. Lizzy hadn't heard the whole story, but what she got from it was that Julia had been dating Henry for a few years and he proposed to her about a month ago. Ironically, Henry was just the person Julia's parents would've hoped for. He was a successful lawyer from a normal but upper class family. From what Lizzy could discern, Henry seemed like an average guy, not one of those snobby, shove-it-in-your-face rich types.

During dinner, Lucy and Max (unwillingly) made plans to stay over night, because they didn't want to drag the kids on the road this late. The Carrigans had a couple of guest rooms for Max and Valerie and Lucy and Jude, Lizzy agreed to sleep in Julia's room, and the younger kids were going to take up Max's old room.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?" Julia asked later on when they were getting ready for bed. Julia had graciously given up her bed--even after Lizzy's protests and Julia arguing that she was her guest--and had spread out a few blankets, sleeping bags, and numerous pillows onto the floor.

"Yeah." Lizzy chuckled, remembering that she had asked Michelle and Eleanor the same question during their sleepover. She climbed under the covers just as Julia sat down onto her pile of blankets and began fluffing her pillow.

"Ooh, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Paul. He's sweet. He's funny, and kind, loyal…he's known me for a long time. We're best friends. We just started dating this year." Lizzy prattled, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. She hadn't realized how much she missed Paul until now. She made a mental note to give him a call once she got back to New York.

"That's _so_ cute," Julia smiled. She settled into her blankets, and Lizzy reached over to turn off the lamp on the nightstand. "'Night, Lizzy."

"'Night, Aunt Julia." Lizzy laughed.

"For future reference, call me Julia. The 'aunt' part makes me feel kinda old."

"You sound like your brother," Lizzy commented. "He makes a face sometimes when I call him 'uncle'."

This time, Julia laughed. "That's Max for ya," she said. Even in the dark, Lizzy could tell she was smiling. "Pleasant dreams." she added, before turning onto her side.

Lizzy rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. She was tired, not having slept like she wanted to on the ride here. Unfortunately, she was in one of those moods where she was so tired that she couldn't get to sleep, which was actually very annoying. With a quiet sigh, she turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. The room was basically silent, except for the faint rustling of the trees and the humming of the crickets outside Julia's window. It had been opened not even half way to let in some fresh air.

All of a sudden, Lizzy heard the front door slam shut. This got her attention immediately; she got out of bed and stepped over Julia's sleeping form to look out the window, which was above the front door. Curiously, she peeked out the window, and saw two figures on the front lawn, which she perceived to be her father and Max. She could make out the small flicker of light coming from the end of Jude's cigarette. Judging from the way the door had closed, the two men must've left because of _something_.

Lizzy, ever the inquisitive child, snuck out the door of Julia's bedroom and down the hall. As she approached the stairs, she could hear the urgent voices of her mother and her grandparents. Valerie had gone to bed after making sure her son fell asleep, so it was only the six of them that were up--seven, counting Lizzy, but they didn't know that. Lizzy stayed at the top of the stairs, listening. Their voices were a bit farther away--possibly in the kitchen--but they carried, especially because they were being so loud.

Feeling brave, Lizzy went halfway down the stairs to hear them a little better. It came as no surprise when she figured out they were arguing about her.

"Every time, you argue about the same thing!" Lucy shouted, louder than she intended to. "This is our life; why can't you _accept_ it? We get by just fine, and having Lizzy in our lives again is something we've waited for."

"Yes, Lucy, you _get by_," Mr. Carrigan mocked. "I've said this before, but I'll say it again: you made decisions without thinking about the long-term consequences. You showed up on our doorstep _married_, and then that boy got you pregnant. You were too _young_. I kept my mouth shut then, but Lucy…I never thought you--maybe Max, but not _you_--would disappoint us like this."

"We've had to make sacrifices, I know, but--" Lizzy could tell that her mother was on the verge of tears. "I wouldn't trade Jude and Lizzy for the world. I _love_ them, Dad. Would you rather me be married to some stuck up asshole and be miserable for the rest of my life? Jude treats me well, he loves me and Lizzy more than anything, and we have a wonderful, healthy, talented daughter who's going off to college. Isn't that enough for you? To know that _I'm _happy? I thought that's what you wanted for me."

"I didn't want you to have to worry about money, Lucy. I didn't want you to be a waitress, living paycheck to paycheck like this," Mrs. Carrigan replied. "How are you ever going to pay for Lizzy's college expenses?"

"I'm sick of arguing, Mom," Lucy said. She started to walk away, tears running down her face. "I don't want to hear it anymore. Hold your grudges if you want, but I'm _done_."

"You know, I could've dealt with you and that boy being married, but having a child so soon…" Mrs. Carrigan continued. They were in the living room now, but neither one noticed Lizzy standing on the stairs.

"Don't even say it, Mom. _Don't_," Lucy warned. "Lizzy was _not _a _mistake_, no matter how much you think so. She didn't ruin our lives--she made them better. And unlike you, Jude and I are going to support her in everything she does. If she wants to run off with a boy and get married, and they love each other as much as Jude and I do, then that's perfectly okay with me. Lizzy is everything we could've ever wanted. Don't ever call her a _mistake_ ever again."

A quiet, but noticeable sob directed their attention to the young girl who had eavesdropped on the argument without their knowledge. Max and Jude re-entered the house just as Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan looked over at their bewildered granddaughter, their jaws dropping almost to the floor, afraid of how much she'd overheard. Both Lucy and Lizzy had tears rolling down their faces. Max and Jude looked absolutely livid.

"You think I'm a mistake?"


	25. Things We Said Today

****

Disclaimer: Not mine!

**A/N: As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

Jude glanced from Lucy to Lizzy, then to Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan, trying to figure out what was said. He and Max had been outside, and all the two of them could hear was raised voices, not the words that had been spoken. Or more correctly, _shouted_.

"Lizzy…" Lucy choked out, staring up at her daughter who stood dejectedly in the middle of the staircase. She had heard nearly everything, which was something Lucy didn't want to happen.

"I…I didn't see her there." Mrs. Carrigan stammered. She thought--like everyone else--that the teenager had been asleep. She hadn't meant to say those things _in front _of her granddaughter.

Lizzy suddenly shot up the stairs, feet colliding heavily with the floor. She tried her hardest to keep in her tears, but it wasn't so easy. The second she reached the doorway of Julia's room, her body shook with quiet sobs. She went over to the bed where her bag was and pulled on her jean jacket, careful not to wake her sleeping aunt. She was sliding her feet into her sneakers as she walked out of the bedroom.

"Lizzy, sweetheart, wait." Lucy called as her daughter descended the stairs quickly and brushed past the adults.

"I'm awfully sorry…I didn't mean for you to hear our argument." Mrs. Carrigan told the teen, sympathetic. Lizzy wasn't so sure that it was genuine.

"We apologize--we can talk this over." Mr. Carrigan tried.

"Those things shouldn't have been said in the first place." The eighteen-year-old retorted, frowning at her grandparents before ambling right out the door. Lucy made an attempt to go after her, but Max grabbed her arm to pull her back.

"Let her go," he told Lucy, "She doesn't know where she's going so she can't get very far. I'll get her when she's calmed down."

Lucy nodded, wiping the tears furiously from her cheeks. Jude took her hand, rubbing circles onto the back of her palm with his thumb. His wife's attention turned back to her parents.

"I can't believe you." she scolded.

Mr. Carrigan sighed. "She's a big girl, Luce. Maybe it's time she knew how we feel."

_That_ comment didn't go over well with Jude. They had just made his little girl run out of here in tears, and they were talking about letting her know the truth as if it was actually a good thing? They wanted to be completely honest and tell her that her grandparents thought that her parents were failures and that she ruined their chances of having successful lives? _Yeah, because that was what _every_ child wanted to hear from their own family. _Jude thought sarcastically_._

"I know ya don't exactly approve of our marriage or the way we live," Jude said firmly, "But don't take it out on her."

* * *

The air was warm outside, and the night was calm. Lizzy walked down the block, the breeze flowing through her dark tresses. She had no idea where she was headed; all she knew was that she needed to get out of that house, away from her grandparents. She couldn't _stand_ how they had been treating her, looking down on her like she was worthless. And now, she had learned that her grandparents once called her a "mistake". She knew that they hadn't approved of her parents' marriage and that they had started a family so young, but _this_ was something new. She couldn't understand how her grandparents could stoop so low and call _her _names when she didn't do much of anything in the first place.

Her parents were deeply in love, they got married, and had Lizzy. Yes, she was a bit _unexpected_, but she couldn't have been a mistake. And yes, her parents had to give her to the Harrisons, but now they were back together and all was right with the world again. Why couldn't they just deal with it? Why were Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan being so _stupid_?

Lizzy eventually stumbled across a small park that had a few slides and a swing set. It was nothing more than a large area of grass with a couple of trees and benches set underneath them. Lizzy decided to stop there, taking refuge on a wooden bench, her knees pulled up to her chest. She sat quietly, mind still reeling.

"Hey, squirt."

It didn't take very long for someone to find her, just like she thought. She looked up at Max who was standing before her with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He planted himself beside his niece, slouching slightly.

"You all right?" he asked.

Lizzy shrugged. "Not exactly."

Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she scooted closer to him, resting her head against his chest. They were silent for a few moments, before Lizzy felt warm, fresh tears trickling down her cheeks. Max heard her sniffling and sighed, running a soothing hand through her hair.

"Don't listen to their shit, Lizzy. They're a couple of assholes," Max advised. "Trust me, I've learned to ignore it."

"What are you talking about? They didn't seem nearly as angry about you than they were about me and my parents."

Max chuckled. "That's where you're _wrong_, my friend," he stated. "I was the topic of many, _many _arguments. I dropped out of college, remember?" Lizzy nodded. "Anyway, they're just pissed because Lucy was supposed be the Golden Child. According to their standards, her life didn't turn out the way they wanted it to."

"What about you? Did they approve of Aunt Val?"

"Yeah…" he trailed off. "I guess they're giving Luce a harder time because everything happened so quickly, ya know? With me and Val, we waited a couple years before we started a family. Although, they still complain that we should have better jobs…"

"Of course." Lizzy said flatly. "Nothing's ever good enough."

"Uh-huh," Max agreed. "Whatever. Screw them. We're happy, right? New York's awesome, our family is wicked cool, so who the hell cares?"

"I like the way you think."

Max laughed, ruffling his niece's hair. "So, you still thinking about inviting them to your graduation?"

"Nah, I actually have a better alternative…"

Around eight the next morning, the family was slowly piling into the car, getting ready to leave the Carrigans' house. Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan hadn't said much of anything to anyone since the argument last night, and everyone was trying to avoid conversation this morning. Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan were standing at the front window, watching their children and their families depart. Lucy and Valerie hated to leave on bad terms once again, but it seemed like they had no other choice so long as Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan were going to be disagreeable.

Lizzy approached Julia, taking a small envelope out of her pocket. "Julia, I'd like you and Henry to come to my graduation, if you could," she requested. "Mr. and Mrs. Harrison will pay for your flight there and back, and you won't have to worry about a hotel…"

"We would love to come, Lizzy," Julia answered brightly as the teenager handed her the envelope containing two tickets. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Julia embraced the eighteen-year-old tightly. "I can't wait," she gushed. "We'll make some plans for the summer, then, okay? And you'll have to introduce me to that boyfriend of yours."

"Yeah," Lizzy said. "Love you, Julia. Tell Henry I can't wait to meet him."

"You got it, hon," Julia replied. "Love you, too."

Lizzy was the last one to hop in the car, once again stuck in between her two cousins. It was going to be another long ride home…

* * *

When Lucy, Jude, and Lizzy finally sauntered into the apartment, it was about late afternoon. They all tossed their bags carelessly onto the floor of the living room and collapsed onto the couch. The trip had been exhausting, both in a physical and emotional sense. Overall, it felt good to be back in the comforts of their own home, surrounded by people they loved and were loved _by_.

"Sorry I dragged you guys there," Lizzy said suddenly, moving to sit on Lucy's lap when Lucy was already sitting on Jude's lap. "I should've listened to you. I knew you weren't happy about it to begin with."

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for," Lucy reassured her daughter, wrapping her arms around her torso. "I just wish you didn't hear any of what was said. I know it hurt you."

"It's partially my fault for eavesdropping."

"But still, you were right. They shouldn't have even said those things in the first place. They're just stuck in their old ways, Lizzy. They won't accept our life for what it is."

Jude reached over to place a comforting hand on Lizzy's shoulder. "If it makes ya feel any better, me mum adores you."

Lizzy laughed. "Actually, it does," she admitted. It was nice to know that one out of three of her grandparents loved her and her parents unconditionally. "I just wish I could remember her."

"We could give her a call if you'd like." Jude suggested. This made Lizzy's eyes light up.

"_Now_?"

"I don't see why not."

Lucy and Lizzy got off Jude's lap and he ambled over to the phone in the kitchen. Kneeling on the couch cushions, Lizzy leaned over the side of the couch to watch her father as he dialed the long distance to number to his childhood home in Liverpool. He called there periodically to keep his mother posted on what was going on the States. He had told her about Lizzy's return to New York and that they were going to take custody of her again, which Martha was especially pleased to hear about.

Obviously, Lizzy could only hear her father's end of the conversation, and it proved to be a bit puzzling after awhile.

"'ello, Mum, How are ya? We're fine; things are good. Lizzy's visiting in New York right now. Yeah, she's only got a few weeks left of school…"

There was a longer pause, in which Martha relayed a bit of information to her son. The expression on Jude's face changed from happiness to shock.

"…we've been thinking about it, yeah," Jude continued. Lizzy wondered what they were discussing now. "This summer? Mum, it's quite a bit of money…you don't have to…I understand that, but…all right, I'll go get 'er."

Jude held the phone out. "Lizzy, yer grandmother wants to speak with you."

Lizzy practically leapt off the couch and scrambled over to retrieve the phone. She took a breath and held it to her ear, grinning. "Hello?"

"Lizzy," Martha Feeny said from the other end, thousands of miles away in Liverpool. "It's so good to hear your voice, darling. I've missed you so much…can ya believe the last time I saw you, you were two?" There was something about her grandmother's warm, gentle, Liverpudlian accent that made Lizzy feel at ease.

"Your father told me everything. I heard you're movin' back to New York after you graduate. And you're studying to be an art teacher, is that right?"

"Yes." Lizzy smiled.

"That's wonderful."

"Thank you," the teenager replied. "I wish you could be there for my graduation."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart," she answered. "I was just talkin' to your father about that, as a matter of fact. I've been saving up for awhile, hoping that someday you'd get the chance…how would ya like to come to Liverpool with your parents during the summer?"

Lizzy wasn't sure at first if she had heard her grandmother correctly. Then, the words sunk in. She was immediately excited. "_Really_? You mean it?"

"Of course I do," Martha chuckled. "It'll be a graduation present. What do you say? Would you like to come?"

"Definitely." Lizzy beamed.

"Great," Martha replied. "And, do me favor: tell your father not to worry about the expenses."

"Okay." Lizzy smiled at Jude, who was sitting on the couch with Lucy again.

"Make sure to call me after graduation and tell me all about it, all right?"

"Yes," the teen answered, continuing to grin from ear to ear. "Thank you _so_ much."

"You earned it, darling. I'll be expecting a call from you, then. I love you, Lizzy."

"Love you, too, grandma."

Lizzy hung up the phone and made her way back to the couch, doing some kind of dance of joy. Lucy giggled. "What did she say, Lizzy?"

"She invited us to Liverpool sometime during the summer. She said it was my graduation present from her." The eighteen-year-old informed her mother cheerfully. Lucy glanced at Jude, who still seemed kind of shocked to hear about his mother's plans. They didn't have much money--in fact, Jude still sent some money to his mother whenever she needed it--so how she had been able to save up for this trip for them was a mystery to him.

Lizzy couldn't wait to tell Paul…


	26. You Really Got A Hold On Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for my own characters.**

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews!! And, sorry in advance for the horrible cliffhanger at the end of this chapter… you all know how much I _love_**** to leave my readers hanging… :P**

Several days later, Lizzy left the city behind for the last time until she came back in June. The goodbyes hadn't been nearly as difficult as they had been for the previous departures. Everyone was well aware of Lizzy's return after graduation, so tears were not necessary. Lizzy herself knew that she would see her parents sooner than the rest of her family, because they were coming the week after she got back for prom.

Lizzy fell back into the monotonous school routine again, all the while trying to spend as much time with Paul as she could. They only had but a few weeks left together, and still neither of them had decided what exactly they were going to do about their relationship. It didn't help that the two of them avoided talking about the subject altogether; pushing it away until the last minute. Lizzy feared that it would be too late by then, that they wouldn't make a decision and she would have to leave without knowing where they stood.

The weekend after Lizzy returned to Florida, Mr. Henderson hosted the student art showcase at the local museum--an event where Lizzy's most recent painting was placed on display. That involved standing near her artwork for a couple of hours, telling random people about it, even though they wouldn't really understand the symbolism hidden there. Fortunately for Lizzy, Paul stood beside her the entire time to keep up conversation in between the groups of people. Maggie and Charlie Harrison stopped by for a bit, and had the chance to talk to Mr. Henderson about Lizzy's art and her achievements during the course of the years where she had been his student.

Once Mr. Henderson came to tell Lizzy that she was free to go, she and Paul went to look at the other displays. Lizzy, the humble artist she was, thought the other drawings, sculptures, and paintings were remarkable in comparison to her own work. She was simply amazed at the amount of students in the area with such artistic talent.

In the week leading up to prom, the senior class immersed themselves in their studies as their classes came to a close and exam review began. For some, it was a last attempt to raise their grades. Lizzy was an average student, so she didn't have to worry too much over her grades. However, reviewing in each class became very tedious to her after awhile; she only managed to keep plugging along because she knew prom was steadily approaching, which meant that she would see her parents extremely soon.

* * *

Lizzy was scrutinizing her makeup and hair for any last minute touch-ups before she and Paul took pictures in front of the house. Her dress was floor-length, and quite poofy for her slender frame, but it looked beautiful on her. It was a halter top; a very light yellow with polka dots in the same shade that were slightly glossier looking than the background. There was also a thick, satin ribbon around the waist that was a shade darker than the yellow that was the rest of the dress. Lucy had compared it to the dresses that she and her friends once wore in the sixties to their high school dances.

She moved over to her bed, where her small purse was laid out, its contents strewn all over the blankets. Sitting carefully down on the edge of the bed, Lizzy heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Paul," said the voice from the other side, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Lizzy replied, stuffing the items into her purse.

Paul entered, pushing the door closed behind him. He was dressed in the traditional black tuxedo with a white dress shirt underneath, a black bow tie and black dress shoes. His mop of dark blond hair wasn't as unkempt as it usually was. Lizzy wasn't used to seeing him anything outside of baggy jeans and band T-shirts, so she was quite surprised to see that he actually cleaned up very well.

"You look beautiful, Miss Lizzy." he complimented.

"Thank you," she blushed. "You look very handsome yourself, Paul."

"Thanks." Paul took a seat beside her, his green eyes scanning her bedroom. He hadn't hung out up here in awhile, so the drastic change was unexpected. It was extremely empty. A little_ too _empty, in his opinion. The artwork and pictures that once cluttered her walls were gone, and most of her stuff was packed or in the process of being packed into boxes. The almost bare room was a haunting image; suddenly bringing to the forefront the problem weighing on Lizzy's and Paul's minds. Lizzy was leaving in a few weeks, and there wasn't much he could do to stop that.

Paul pushed the thought into the back of his mind where it _belonged_--for now--and tried to focus on making the most out of their prom. Once Lizzy had successfully stuffed everything into her purse, Paul held out his arm for her to link her own arm into. The two of them walked down the staircase and out the front door, where Paul's mother, the Harrisons, and Lucy and Jude were waiting to take pictures of the elegantly dressed couple.

They took pictures--way too many for the teenagers' liking, in fact--with Paul standing behind Lizzy, his arms around her waist, her hands resting on top of his, while they stood in front of the palm tree in the front yard. Lucy, Mrs. Harrison, and Paul's mother kept gushing about how _adorable _they looked throughout the entire "photo shoot", whereas Jude continuously thought about how old he was getting and how fast his little girl had grown up.

"I'm trusting you with this for the night," Mr. Harrison told Paul after the pictures were taken. He was dangling a set of keys to his _other_ sports car over Paul's palm, looking the young man seriously in the eye. "Don't _leave_ it anywhere, or let anything _else_ of a disastrous nature happen to it. Is that clear?"

Paul nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Have a great time."

Poor Paul had to suffer through two overprotective-father speeches before he and Lizzy were even allowed to get into the car. Mr. Harrison continued to warn him about the car and the importance of not drinking and driving--if they were planning to get involved with that sort of partying after the dance, which they profusely agreed that they _weren't_. Unlike some people in their grade, they didn't need to consume any alcohol in order to have a good time.

Jude hit the other imperative points of the lecture, saying, "Try not to be out _all_ night, mate," He looked at Paul, knowing that he was a good kid, trustworthy and responsible. Above all, he cared about Lizzy more than anything. "Keep an eye on me daughter, all right?" Paul assured Jude that they would be home at a reasonable hour--one, maybe two in the morning, tops--safe and sound.

Five minutes later, they were in the car, and twenty minutes after that, they were in the banquet hall enjoying prom among their classmates. Everyone looked amazing; the girls with their brightly colored dresses and the guys in their sleek-looking tuxes and suits. There were tables on either side of the dance floor, only some crowded with students; many of the seniors were standing in groups, talking or using the time to take pictures with their friends. The banquet hall was decorated in silver and blue decorations, which were the chosen theme colors for the prom.

The chaperones--teachers, mostly--stayed near the sidelines, very rarely venturing out to say hello to their favorite students or compliment someone on their dress. They were, however, ready to spring into action if inappropriate dancing was spotted.

Paul led Lizzy to the dance floor as soon as a slow song came on. It was a song they liked, one that they'd unofficially deemed as "their song". They danced leisurely, trying their best to watch out for the couples dancing around them, as there wasn't a whole lot of room for everyone to fit all at once on the wooden floor. The song came through the speaker system, melodic and soulful; Paul started singing it to Lizzy, his voice sounding beautiful in her ear.

"_I don't like you, __But I love you. See that I'm always thinking of you. Oh, oh, oh, you treat me badly, I love you madly. You really got a hold on me. You really got a hold on me, baby…"_

Lizzy laughed, swaying back and forth with her boyfriend, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her own arms were encircled around his neck, the two of them as close to each other as the chaperones allowed. Paul could feel their glaring expressions beating down on them, but he didn't exactly care. Getting disapproving stares from teachers was the least of his worries. This was probably the last time he would dance with Lizzy like this before she left Florida for New York, unless he managed to squeeze in one last date to The Glass Onion in between that.

He continued to sing; Lizzy focused on his voice rather than the one floating through the speakers.

"_I don't want you, but I need you. Don't want to kiss you but I need you. Oh, oh, oh you do me wrong now, my love is strong now. You really got a hold on me. You really got a hold on me, baby I love you and all I want you to do is just hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me…"_

Lizzy leaned in further, resting her head against his shoulder. The gentle motion of the two of them swaying back and forth made her feel content, and incredibly loved.

"Having a good time?" Paul asked, smiling.

"Of course."

"Glad to hear it."

The two teenagers sang the remaining lines of the song together, their voices blending in a soulful harmony.

"_I love you and all I want you to do is just hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me. You really got a hold on me. You really got a hold on me."_

The teenage couple shared several slow dances together throughout the remainder of the night, Lizzy eager to tow her boyfriend out to the dance floor. They also danced to many of the faster songs, the atmosphere reminding them of their wonderful memories rocking out at various clubs. Around eleven-thirty, the crowd started dwindle, many of the students ready to leave the banquet hall to throw their own parties or sleepovers or grab a bite to eat at a nearby restaurant.

Paul and Lizzy ended up leaving at midnight, when the actual dance was supposed to end. Paul had promised Jude that they would be home sometime between one and two in the morning, so they had a couple of hours to kill before they had to go back to the Harrisons'. At first, they couldn't make up their minds about where they wanted to go, having not too many choices because a lot of places were closed. Paul suggested a coffee shop or a restaurant, but Lizzy turned it down, saying she was still full from their extensive dinner at the banquet hall. Finally, she decided that what she _really_ wanted to do was go to the beach and just hang out for awhile.

The sky was glistening with stars when they sat out on the soft, dry sand. Paul was sitting with his legs out, Lizzy laying back comfortably against him, his arms wrapped around her. It reminded Lizzy of the night they spent on Paul's apartment building roof last year--the night before the Harrisons broke the news that had completely changed her life.

They sat in silence for a bit, gazing upwards at the stars twinkling against the blue-black sky, listening to the waves crashing into the beach. Paul hated to break the silence with a question he was sure Lizzy didn't want to answer, but he _needed_ to know. They _needed_ to talk about this.

"Lizzy?" he began, his voice sounding hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"When you move to New York…where does that…you know, leave _us_?"

Lizzy peered up at her boyfriend, shooting him the inevitable 'why-did-you-have-to-ask-that-and-spoil-the-moment?' kind of look.

When she didn't respond, he started, "I mean, are we going to be just friends? Or continue like this?"

Lizzy didn't know if they could continue a romantic relationship with the two of them being on opposite ends of the coast. It would be extremely hard… And Paul felt like he was being selfish by simply wishing that he and Lizzy could stay together like this. All Lizzy wanted was to be with her family, so who was _he_ to try and take that from her? Besides, she was going to college in Manhattan--her _dream_ school--and he didn't want to take that away from her, either.

"I don't know, Paul," Lizzy replied, shrugging. "It's a tough decision to make. I don't want to loose you as a boyfriend _or_ a friend. You've been there for me through everything--since we were kids--and I don't want me moving to New York to ruin that."

"I know," Paul sighed, absentmindedly running his hands through Lizzy's dark hair. "Listen, if you need some time to think, that's fine. Whatever you decide, it'll be okay with me."

"Are you sure?" she asked curiously. "I want you to have some say in this, too…"

"Trust me, I'll be okay with it." Paul half-lied. He couldn't very well tell her that he hated the fact that she was moving so far away, that they wouldn't be able to hang out like this as they always had, since they were little kids. That she wouldn't be there for him when she needed her; that a phone call every other week wouldn't do _any_ sort of justice compared seeing her. Maybe he was being selfish. He hated to think so. But the truth was, Lizzy was his only true, good friend. Like she had said, they had been through _everything_ together. To think that she wouldn't be here when they started college was something Paul disliked greatly.

But he knew, in his heart of hearts, that New York was where Lizzy belonged. It was where she really had belonged all her life.

Paul didn't question her any further, and the two teenagers spent the next hour or so talking about memories that stuck out in their minds from their childhood and adolescence. Some of the recollections were funny, sad, or extremely humiliating. However, it was fun for them to go back and forth with the various "remember when"'s.

It was about a quarter to two in the morning when they decided to head back to the Harrisons' place, where Jude and Lucy were no doubt waiting up with them until Lizzy and Paul returned. They were probably eager to hear about their night.

Lizzy and Paul were mere blocks from the Harrisons' house when a couple of things happened all too quickly. Paul and Lizzy's car--or more precisely, _Mr. Harrison's _car--went at a green light, ready to go through the intersection up ahead. A car full of teenagers from the same school coming from the same prom went through their red light, failing to stop at the appropriate time. Once the driver realized his mistake, it was too late by then. Paul barely had time to react, slamming on the brakes and throwing his arm out to protect Lizzy--even though they were both wearing their seat belts--as the two cars suddenly collided…

* * *

**A/N: I just know you're all going to freak out…lol. Anyway, as a side note, may I say that "You Really Got a Hold On Me" is one of my absolute favorite Beatles songs. Anyone agree? **

**Maybe some trivia will cheer you all up… **

**Question: Who took Ringo's place on drums when he temporarily quit the band during the recording of **_**The White Album?**_


	27. Help!

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize…**

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews!! This is the most reviews I have gotten (total) for a story on Fanfiction so far, so thank you all so much! **

**For all of you who attempted to answer (I know it was a harder one this time!), the correct answer to the trivia question is Paul McCartney. And now, onto Chapter 27...enjoy! **

The carload of rowdy teenagers slammed into the driver's side of Mr. Harrison's car right in the middle of the intersection, nearly missing a third vehicle in another lane. The impact was horrendous; a mix of overwhelming sounds and sights as multiple cars screeched across the pavement to avoid the collision. All Lizzy could hear--she had her eyes closed when she saw the car coming toward them and faintly remembered screaming at Paul at the top of her lungs to _watch out_--was the ear-piercing shriek of metal slamming into metal and the shattering of glass.

She was thrown roughly into the passenger side door, and instinctively threw her arm out to break her collision with the window. That was only met with a sickening crack and a sharp pain shooting from her wrist up her arm. Unfortunately, her head hit the glass, cracking it instantly, and she fell unconscious, slumped against the door. She blacked out for a few moments, and when she came to, the terrible sounds had ceased and an eerie silence filled the car.

Lizzy's head throbbed from hitting the window, and she could feel a warm liquid trickling down her face; the crimson substance obscuring her vision slightly. Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hear the rhythmic pulse in her ears--a good sign telling her she had survived the accident. She glanced around, seeing a mess of mangled metal and shattered glass everywhere. Some bystanders who had witnessed the whole thing were looking on in horror.

Fearfully, Lizzy shifted her position to see how much Paul had been effected, knowing that he had taken the brunt of the impact. Her fears were met once she saw her boyfriend hunched over the steering wheel. The driver's side door was also dented inward from the car that had hit them. Paul's body was motionless, arms dangling limply at his sides. Lizzy winced, tears forming in her eyes. Carefully, she unbuckled her seatbelt and moved closer to Paul, avoiding any shards of glass that had fallen onto the seats. She held her right arm close to her body, knowing that it was most likely broken.

"Paul." she choked out, voice trembling. She knew he wouldn't answer, but she wanted to try. She wanted him to open his eyes and tell her everything was going to be _okay_, like he always did. "Paul?" Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and she let out a small sob.

Reaching out with her good hand, she took one of Paul's blood-streaked hands and held it in her hers. She pressed her thumb against his wrist, checking for a pulse.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found one. A strong one, thankfully.

Lizzy scooted back to her seat, and stared hopelessly out the window at the people crowding around the scene. "Help!" she called, "Please, somebody, _help_!"

She heard someone yell back to her that they had called 911, and heard the sound of sirens in the distance before her head started spinning and she had to collapse back into her seat. She threw a fleeting look at Paul, holding onto a shred of hope that both of them would be all right.

* * *

"I always loved that picture." Maggie Harrison laughed, pointing to a photograph of Lizzy in one of the albums that was spread out over the coffee table in the living room. Maggie, Charlie, Lucy and Jude were sitting around leafing through old photo albums, the Harrisons sharing stories of Lizzy's childhood. Paul's mother had left after taking pictures of her son and Lizzy, and Mr. Harrison had offered to take Paul home once they returned to the house.

In the picture Maggie was referring to, Lizzy was about seven years old, and she was at the beach, dressed in a light green one piece bathing suit and a white fisherman's style hat. She was sprawled across the wet sand--her dark hair fanned out beneath her and her arms out at her sides--right where the ocean met the shore, and a small wave was rushing in to soak her completely. There was a huge grin on her face.

"She'll probably miss the beach the most." Charlie Harrison murmured, laughing mostly to himself.

Lucy nodded understandingly, knowing that the beach would probably be the second most-missed thing for her daughter. The first would be Paul.

"There's a nice little pier right outside the city," Lucy told them. "It's kind of a special place for us. We took Lizzy there when she came during spring break, and she said it was a good substitute for the beach."

"And I'm sure she'll try to visit at least once over the summer before her classes start." Jude reassured the Harrisons, knowing that they were sad to be letting Lizzy go. It was understandable--she had been their daughter, too. If Lizzy had the time, Jude knew she would make a point to come back to Florida during the summer. The beach, Jude was well aware of, wasn't the only thing Lizzy would be upset to leave behind.

Mrs. Harrison shared a thoughtful look with her husband, nodding. A silence passed over the adults; Maggie took that time to stand and gather up some of the empty glasses scattered on a few of the tables.

"Would anyone like anything while I'm up?" she asked, moving slowly over toward the kitchen. When the three adults gave various responses declining the offer, Maggie continued on to the kitchen, placing the glasses in the sink. She had the intention of washing them out, but she didn't get very far because the phone started ringing. Maggie yelled to the others that she would answer it, being the nearest person to the phone.

"Hello?" she asked, holding the phone in one hand and a damp dishrag in the other.

The formal-sounding, feminine voice caught her off-guard. "Mrs. Harrison, I presume?"

"Yes," Maggie Harrison replied reluctantly, "Who is this?"

"This is Cynthia at Palm Beach Hospital. Elizabeth Feeny said I would be able to get a hold of her parents at this number. You were Elizabeth's adoptive mother, correct?"

"Yes," Mrs. Harrison answered, her voice shaking. "What's going on? Is Lizzy all right?" The only word that stuck out in Maggie's mind was _hospital_, and she'd immediately panicked upon hearing it.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," The woman, most likely the hospital secretary, said, "Elizabeth was involved in a car accident and she is currently receiving treatment here. Is there any way to notify Mr. and Mrs. Feeny?"

"Of…of course. They're staying at our house. I…I'll tell them," Maggie declared. "H-How bad is it?" Her voice was quiet now, dreading the answer to that question.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison, but the doctor didn't give me any details on her condition."

Maggie's heart sank. "O-Okay…we'll be over as soon as possible." She hung up the phone, shaking her head in disbelief, tears beginning to make trails down her cheeks. She did _not_ look forward to going back into that living room and telling Lucy and Jude the news. How had such a happy occasion suddenly turn into a complete nightmare? Everything was going so well before--Lizzy was going to graduate in a few weeks, and move to New York to be with her family, and go to college where she wanted to.

Now, Mrs. Harrison wondered what would happen. How bad the damages were…how exactly it would effect Lizzy's future. She prayed that things weren't too bad…

Maggie sauntered into the living room, stopping in the doorway. Charlie, Lucy, and Jude turned to look over at her. The three of them noticed the worried and shocked expression on her face, and the tears in her eyes. Charlie was the first one to question it, his voice carrying a tone of concern.

"Who called?"

Maggie bit her lip, more tears trickling down her face. She couldn't bring herself to tell them what had happened.

"What's wrong, Maggie?" Lucy asked, her own heart rate picking up speed at Mrs. Harrison's own nervousness. A sense of deep foreboding washed over her. "Who was it?"

"Someone at the hospital," Maggie responded. "There…There's been an accident."

Lucy's and Jude's faces instantly paled.

* * *

**A Half Hour Earlier…**

There was complete and utter chaos.

Lizzy kept fading in and out of consciousness during the time up until she was brought to the hospital, wanting to close her eyes to block out everything happening around her. It was an unpleasant scene. The shouting, the bright lights, the sirens. The firemen taking apart the driver's side of the car to get Paul out, and rushing him off to the hospital in a separate ambulance. The paramedics lifting her out of Mr. Harrison's mangled car and placing her on a gurney. Watching the other teenagers being rescued, both cars a huge mess; glass strewn all over the road, blood streaking the windows. People watching--fascinated, horrified, and disgusted--everything taking place.

She wanted all of it to go away…she wanted it to be a bad dream. But to her dismay, it wasn't.

She recalled feeling the paramedics poking and prodding her, asking her questions. She even remembered one of them--a young woman, who seemed to be in her mid-twenties--holding her hand, telling her she was going to be okay. She remembered crying uncontrollably…like she was doing at the present moment, as they wheeled her down the stark white halls toward the emergency room.

Lizzy was wide awake now. And she was in hysterics.

"Where's Paul?" she cried, barely recognizing her voice as her own. "I want to know where he is! Tell me what's going on!"

"Calm down, honey," one of the nurses told her, "You need to take it easy…just relax."

Lizzy opened her mouth to repeat her request, but the doctor that had rushed up to meet the gurney by the door spoke before she could. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked. His voice was calm, and somewhat comforting.

"Elizabeth Feeny," she replied. "Lizzy."

"Okay, Lizzy, I'm Dr. Lennon. We're going to take good care of you, all right?"

They stopped in the emergency room and went to work, ignoring Lizzy's distressed pleas to inform her on her boyfriend's condition. They continued to poke an prod--_yet again_--as Lizzy winced when they came across a cut or a bruise. Her head was throbbing and stinging at the same time, her arm ached, and it hurt terribly whenever she took a deep breath. They kept touching the spots that hurt and asking _if _they hurt, which Lizzy found particularly annoying because it was blatantly obvious from the expressions on her face that she was in pain.

The nurses had to cut her beautiful, yellow prom dress open in order to assess her wounds--saying something about Lizzy possibly having a few broken ribs--which did _not _make Lizzy a very happy person. Once they put a hospital gown on her, Dr. Lennon came to her bedside to tell her what was going on.

"Lizzy, we think you have a concussion and a couple broken ribs, and you broke your wrist as well. We're going to stitch up the cut on your forehead, then send you for some x-rays and put your wrist in a cast."

But Lizzy didn't care about what was wrong--_she_ was obviously going to be okay. What she _didn't_ know was if Paul had been that lucky.

"Did you see my boyfriend Paul? He was in the car with me--what happened to him? Is he all right?"

"Honey, relax." A nurse told her. How could she relax when she had no idea where Paul was and what was happening to him? Or if he was even _alive_? Lizzy wished they would stop calling her _honey_ and _sweetheart _and just give her some straight _answers_.

"But--"

"We'll find out about your boyfriend and fill you in once we get you settled into a room." Dr. Lennon compromised.

Who knew how long that would take? Nevertheless, Lizzy chose to comply, and therefore kept her mouth shut through all of the x-rays and stitching and whatnot.

* * *

The four adults arrived at the hospital five minutes after receiving the call, which was half the time it normally took to get there. Charlie drove, because no one else had the ability to concentrate at the time. Lucy and Maggie were in tears, and Jude was visibly shaken, trying to comfort his wife. However, Charlie found himself wondering how_ he _had even gotten them to the hospital; although he did not look upset on the outside, he was beating himself up on the inside.

He was trying to picture how things could've been different if _he_ had driven them around tonight. Would it have changed anything? Would they be sitting in their living room laughing and discussing Lizzy and Paul's prom instead of standing in the hospital, crying?

Lucy charged up to the receptionist's desk, fresh tears still rolling down her cheeks and her face all red and splotchy. Jude stood behind her, one hand on her waist and one hand gently rubbing the small of her back in a comforting gesture. The receptionist--whose name was Cynthia, the woman Maggie spoke to over the phone--glanced up at the four adults, plastering on a sympathetic smile.

"Can I help you?"

Lucy fought every urge not to scream at the woman, yelling back some smartass remark and demanding to know where her daughter was and how she was doing.

"Our daughter, Elizabeth, was taken here awhile ago," The young blond stated. "She was in a car accident."

On the inside, Cynthia grimaced. Their daughter had been in the horrible accident involving two cars full of teenagers coming from their prom. She had seen the terrible train of gurneys carrying the injured teens, all dressed in their gowns and tuxedos. It was always a shame to see patients coming in from proms at this time of year.

"Last name Feeny, right?" Cynthia asked.

"Yeah." Jude and Lucy answered simultaneously.

"Okay. If you'll just have a seat over there," she motioned to the waiting room lined with plastic chairs, "I'll call Elizabeth's doctor in to speak to you."

Lucy nodded solemnly and walked across the hallway to the waiting room, Jude's arm around her shoulder. Lucy looked up to see Paul's mother already sitting there, her expression solemn. She was dabbing at her bloodshot eyes with a tissue as the two troubled couples sunk down next to her.

"Sally." She called, and the woman glanced up. She was relieved to see them there. She thought was going to have to go through this alone, as she had with everything else in her and Paul's life ever since her jerk of a husband walked out on them. Now, more than ever, she needed someone by her side. Sally knew that truly, she _wasn't_ alone in this. Lucy, Jude, Maggie, and Charlie were just as frightened as she was.

"Oh, Maggie…Lucy…" she sobbed, finding sympathy in both of their own tear-filled eyes, "I can't believe…" Lucy put an arm around the woman's shoulder, and Maggie moved from her spot to sit on the other side of her.

"Did they tell you anything?" Maggie asked.

"The doctor said that Paul was taken up to s-surgery…to stop some internal bleeding," Sally wept. "They're supposed to g-give me some k-kind of update s-soon."

"Have you heard anything about Lizzy?" Lucy questioned.

Sally shook her head. "No," she said. "Sorry."

"Did they tell ya what…" Jude trailed off, still in quite a bit of shock. He couldn't bring himself to think about his daughter being involved all of this. "…Ya know, how the accident happened?"

Sally nodded gravely, and composed herself to give an explanation. "Lizzy and Paul's car was crossing an intersection and the car that hit them went through a red light. The doctor said that the kid driving hadn't been paying attention and didn't brake fast enough. They were coming from the same prom."

Jude shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. _Bloody kids_, he thought bitterly, continuing to rub circles into Lucy's back in order to keep himself sane. Lucy stifled a sob and leaned back to rest against Jude's chest. The adults sat in an uneasy silence, drowning out the hectic, nerve-racking sounds of the hospital, consumed in their own thoughts.

Lizzy's doctor's voice cut through their reflections a few minutes later. "Mr. and Mrs. Feeny?"

Lucy's and Jude's heads snapped up. They threw a glance in the Harrisons' direction; Maggie and Charlie told them to go, seeing as how Lizzy was rightfully _their_ daughter. The two of them stood, and holding hands, they approached the doctor.

"My name is Dr. Lennon," he told the anxious parents, shaking their hands, "I treated your daughter after she was rushed here from the accident."

"How is she?" Lucy asked, her grip on Jude's hand tightening.

"She's recovering fine." he declared, which caused Lucy and Jude to breathe a major sigh of relief.

"Thank God." Jude said quietly, squeezing his wife's hand.

"Lizzy has a concussion, and she broke her right wrist, and a couple of ribs. She had some stitches and we put her wrist in a cast. We're going to keep her here for a day or two, and she'll have to take it easy for a few weeks until her ribs heal."

"Can we see 'er?" Jude inquired.

"Of course." Dr. Lennon answered.

"Thank you so much." Lucy said. Dr. Lennon gave them Lizzy's room number before he left, then Lucy and Jude went back over to Maggie and Charlie, asking if they wanted to come with them to see Lizzy.

"You go on up," Charlie replied. "We'll give you some time before we go see her."

Walking hand-in-hand, Lucy and Jude started walking to Lizzy's room, unable to have peace of mind until they could see their little girl for themselves.

* * *

**A/N: Such drama…lol. Okay, so I have sort of an easy question this time, but it requires you to look back at all the chapter titles. Which title is not a Beatles song, but a John Lennon song? Good luck…**

**Please review! It's always appreciated!**


	28. Carry That Weight

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from ATU. **

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! The answer to the trivia question is "Gimme Some Truth", which is the title for chapter 5. It's a John Lennon song, not a Beatles song… Now, on to Chapter 28! **

Jude hated how small and broken his little girl looked as she lay in that hospital bed, sound asleep. She was peaceful for the moment, her chest rising and falling steadily underneath the crisp white bed sheet, for now unaware of the pain coming from her broken ribs. The one side of her face--the side where a bandage covered up the large gash on her forehead--was completely bruised, and there was a smaller cut below her eye. Her broken wrist, now in a plaster cast, was resting against her body. A rhythmic beeping from the machine she was hooked up to was a tell-tale sign that she was, in fact, all right.

Lucy bit her lip to hold in her tears and cautiously joined her husband by Lizzy's bedside. Jude placed his arm around his wife's shoulder as she reached out to hold Lizzy's uninjured hand, the one where the IV had been placed. Lucy could no longer contain her emotions at the sight of her baby girl like this. Tears welled up in her cerulean eyes, brimming over the edge to slide down her fair skinned cheeks. Gently, she let go of her daughter's hand and collapsed into Jude's chest, sobbing.

"Oh, Jude…" she cried, voice muffled and shaking. She couldn't bring herself to speak full sentences. Her head was reeling with so many different thoughts and emotions; she never wanted this night to end in this way, so tragically--almost fatal. Going to prom was every girl's dream, and Lizzy's hadn't had a fairy tale ending.

And really, neither did Lucy's, either. She had gone to her senior prom with Daniel, only to learn by the end of the night that he was leaving her to serve his country in the Army. Several months later, he was dead. Lucy prayed that Lizzy wouldn't experience the same thing--loosing a first love so young.

"Shh, Luce, it's all right," Jude soothed. "Lizzy's okay. She'll get through this--we'll get through this. I promise."

"Mom?" Lizzy said, her voice weak. She stirred slightly at the sound of new voices in the room, opening her eyes to see her mother, crying, in the arms of her father. There was an expression in his soulful, brown eyes that she hadn't really seen before--he was scared. "Dad?"

"Lizzy." Lucy breathed; she bent over to carefully hug her daughter. Jude leaned in to give her a kiss on the top of her head, and let his hand gently run over her hair.

Lizzy noticed her mother's tears. "Mom, I'm fine. Don't cry…"

"Honey, it's my job to cry," Lucy said, sniffling, "I'm your mother."

"Ya feelin' okay?" Jude asked.

"Yeah, as long as I don't _move_." she replied, referring to the dull throbbing in her ribs, which became like a sharp pain every time she took a deep breath or shifted the slightest bit.

"Do you need any more pain medication? We could call a nurse in for you…" Lucy suggested. Lizzy shook her head. Physically, she was okay; she could handle the dull aches and pains. Emotionally, she wasn't exactly the bright and cheery girl she usually was, but she was doing her best to act like it. She didn't want her parents to worry.

"I feel fine, Mom. Really."

There was a knock on the door, disrupting any further attempts to question Lizzy, which she was somewhat thankful for. However, she couldn't help but feel an enormous amount of guilt wash over her once she saw who was standing at the door.

"Lizzy, you're awake," Mrs. Harrison said, surprised. "The doctor said you were sleeping, and we weren't sure whether to come in or not."

"She just woke up," Jude explained. "C'mon in."

"How are you, sweetheart?" Mr. Harrison asked.

"Okay." The teenager failed to meet Mr. Harrison's gaze. This didn't slip by Jude unnoticed.

"What's the matter, Lizzy?" he asked. This time, she looked up at Mr. Harrison.

"Sorry about your car." she told him, her tone quiet. She felt extremely guilty, knowing that it was the second car she had caused him to lose.

"Elizabeth, there's nothing to be sorry about," Charlie Harrison reassured her. "It wasn't your fault; it was an accident. I'm not worried about the car, and you shouldn't be, either. A car can be replaced--_you _can't. What's important is that you're okay."

"Well, we should get going, and let you rest," Mrs. Harrison said, linking her arm around her husband's. "We'll take a bus home and leave the car keys for you." She told Lucy and Jude.

"Luce, why don't you go with Charlie and Maggie and get some sleep?" Jude recommended. "I'll stay the night with Lizzy."

"Jude, I can't leave her--"

"It's all right, Mom. Go get some sleep. Dad said he'd stay." Lizzy agreed.

"Are you sure?"

Lizzy nodded in reply. "I'll be back at noon, then," Lucy compromised. "And I'll call everyone in New York to tell them what's going on."

"Better call Julia, too." Lizzy put in.

"And I'll call me mum from the hospital as well." Jude said. He gave Lucy a kiss and watched as she left with the Harrisons. Lizzy did her best to get into a sitting position; Jude helped her, placing pillows behind her back. He had a feeling that she wouldn't really be able to sleep. Silence settled in between them until Lizzy got up the courage to ask the question that had been weighing on her mind since she had woken up. Earlier, after the x-rays and such had been completed, Lizzy had fallen asleep before the doctor ever had a chance to tell her how her boyfriend was.

"Did you…umm…hear anything about Paul?"

Lizzy's heart beat faster in her chest, anticipating the response, hoping it wasn't something too bad.

"We saw Paul's mom, and the last we heard that he was in surgery," Jude answered, causing Lizzy to hang her head, sadness etched into her features. "Would ya like me to find out what's goin' on?"

Lizzy glanced up, fresh tears threatening to fall. "If you could…"

"Are you going to be all right in here by yerself?"

Lizzy nodded, and Jude exited the room, throwing a hesitant glance in his daughter's direction before he was fully out the door. As much as Lizzy wanted to know about Paul, part of her wished that she could've spoken up, and said that she didn't want to be left alone. Being left alone meant she had nothing to occupy her but her thoughts, and she couldn't handle that, because her thoughts were simply a mess.

She was scared--every time she closed her eyes she could see that car coming toward them; she could see Paul's panicked expression and his last attempt to save her. Not himself, but _her_. He was always thinking of others before he ever thought of himself. Lizzy hated to think that that could be the thing that probably caused him to get hurt so badly--his tragic flaw. Then again, the car happened to hit the driver's side, and that couldn't have been Lizzy's fault. But what if _she_ had been driving, and not him? Lizzy always thought Paul was stronger than she was; he was the one she came to for help, for advice. If she had been driving, would she be dead right now? What if they couldn't save Paul? What if _he_ was dead?

Lizzy didn't want to think like that. Paul wasn't dead. He _couldn't _be. She could still see Paul's face, and almost feel his arm thrown across her in a vain attempt to protect her from the impact of the oncoming car. How could she possibly leave Florida--leave _Paul_--after all of this? He probably wouldn't be fully recovered by graduation. How could she leave when he needed her most--when _they_ needed _each other _most? There would be emotional scars left to heal, as neither one of them had never been through something so traumatic as this.

"Lizzy." Jude's voice interrupted her thoughts. She hadn't realized that he had returned, and had been calling her name for the past half minute. She blinked, and looked up at him.

"Yeah? Sorry…I must've spaced out," she apologized quickly. Then, she swallowed hard. "How is he?"

"He's recoverin' in the ICU," Jude informed her. "I guess they have 'im hooked up to some machines that are breathing for him, for now. They almost lost 'im in surgery, but--"

Jude stopped when he saw his daughter crying. Not the silent tears which she had been crying before, but full out sobbing. He hadn't seen her cry like this since they first ran into each other on the streets of New York City--and they had been happy tears then. Jude sat on the edge of her hospital bed, running a comforting hand up and down her back.

"He's all right, Lizzy," Jude reassured her. "The surgery worked…he'll be okay. It'll take 'im a bit longer to recover, the doctor said, but he'll be fine."

"C-Can I s-see him?" she question, wiping her tears away with the hand that wasn't partially wrapped in plaster. "I-I need t-to see him."

* * *

Lizzy's nurse helped her into a wheelchair, placing a pillow behind her back to cushion her body in order to help with the pain of her broken ribs. She escorted Lizzy and Jude onto the elevator up to the ICU, and wheeled Lizzy down the hall toward Paul's room, towing Lizzy's IV with her. They stopped just short of the doorway, where Jude told Lizzy he would let her visit him alone, knowing she needed that. He told her he was going to call her grandmother, and that he would be back in a little bit. The nurse wheeled her in and positioned her wheelchair close to Paul's bedside.

She was afraid to look at him. When she finally did, she had to force herself to _not _start crying again. His face and arms were more bruised and cut up than hers were, because of all the shattered glass that had flow in his direction at the time of the impact. He was hooked up to many more machines than she had been, too; there was a large tube down his throat, which was helping him to breathe at the moment.

"How long will have that?" Lizzy asked the nurse in the room softly, gesturing to the tube. She glanced up from checking Paul's vitals.

"Until he wakes up and we know he's stable."

Lizzy hoped he'd wake up soon. He just looked so…_lifeless_. She couldn't stand it. She wanted his bright, green eyes to open, wanted him to smile and talk to her and tell her that they were both going to be fine.

Gingerly, Lizzy leaned in and ran her fingers through Paul's shaggy, disheveled hair, brushing it off his forehead, cautious of the bandages and bruises. She sat with him in silence for well over five minutes, just watching over him and feeling guilty for what he was going through.

"I'm so sorry, Paul," she whispered at last, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry our night had to end like this."

Carefully, she took his hand in hers, and rubbed circles into the back of his palm. Tears were beginning to blur her vision; she promptly blinked them away.

"And I'm sorry I'm leaving you behind to go to New York. I feel incredibly selfish for it. I have everything I've ever wanted…my real family, a chance to go to college for art, living somewhere where I actually feel like I belong…but I won't have _you_ there with me," Lizzy wiped a tear that managed to escape. "And you've _always_ been there. I don't know what I'm going to do…I wish I could take you with me to New York. I don't want to loose our friendship."

When Jude came in, he saw Lizzy sitting dejectedly in the wheelchair, clutching Paul's hand.

"Ready to go back, Lizzy?" he asked. The teenager tore her gaze from her boyfriend and nodded. She was feeling somewhat tired now. Jude wheeled her back down to her room, neither of them talking. What Lizzy didn't know was that her father had heard the last part of her conversation. He had known all along that it would be hard for his daughter to leave Paul in Florida, but he hadn't known until now how much of a rough time she was having with it. He could sympathize with her on some level, considering he knew what it felt like to leave someone he loved behind--he had left Lucy in the States when he was deported back to Liverpool. Although they had technically broken up their relationship, he still loved her, and that's why it hurt him.

Once Lizzy was in her hospital bed, Jude sunk down into the chair, pushing it closer to her. Neither one of them attempted to start up a conversation. Lizzy sat staring with a blank expression on her face, and Jude mostly kept his eyes on the tiles on the floor.

"I want to go home." Lizzy said suddenly.

Jude peered over at her. "Doctor said you'd probably be able to leave the hospital sometime tomorrow."

Lizzy shook her head, indicating that her father hadn't understood what she had said. "No, I want to go _home_."

Now Jude understood. And he didn't know quite what to say. He figured the sudden change in Lizzy's decisions over the whole situation were due to all the stress related to the accident and her confused feelings toward her relationship with Paul.

Lizzy rested her head against the pillow. She hadn't really phrased that right, but she didn't know what else to say. It wasn't that she wanted to go _home_--well, she _did_, but not yet--it was more like she wanted _home _to come to _her_. She wanted her family here, now more than ever. She needed them. She needed Sadie's advice, she wanted to hear JoJo's soothing guitar riffs…she wanted her uncle Max to cheer her up with his amazing sense of humor…she wanted Prudence and Rita to paint her nails or something--_anything_--to get her mind of the cloud of misery hanging over her head. She wanted some of her aunt Valerie's chicken noodle soup, and she wanted her cousins surrounding her with smiles, childish antics, and laughter.

She felt more homesick than ever before.

* * *

**A/N: Please review! And, please check out the "Dizzy Miss Lizzy"-related oneshot entitled, "Beautiful Boy". Leave a review and tell me what you think! Thanks! Trivia will make an appearance in the next chapter, I promise… **


	29. All Together Now

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. Everything else is mine…**

Lucy hung up the phone, plopping onto the chair nearby. She put her face in her hands, shook her head, then ran her fingers through her blond locks, completely exhausted. She had just gotten off the phone with her little sister, Julia, whom she had told the news about the car accident. Before that, Lucy had spoken to her family in New York, having a lengthy conversation about Lizzy with each person. Everyone seemed pretty distraught over it--as she knew they would be--and it took a great deal of talking to convince them that Lizzy was going to be just fine.

The hardest to convince had been Max, who always got very shaken up whenever something bad happened to someone close to him. Lucy remembered the time Michelle got hurt and had to be taken to the hospital for stitches. Max had beaten himself up inside, feeling horrible that he hadn't been there to shield his little girl from the danger. Or, last year, when little Max had to get his appendix removed. Valerie had been out when little Max had started complaining about the pain, and Max didn't know what to do. He had to call an ambulance to rush his son to the emergency room, then to surgery. Besides fighting in Vietnam, Max had never been so scared in his entire life. Hearing about Lizzy had brought on a new wave of panic.

Lucy got up from the chair and walked into the living room with the intention of falling asleep on the couch. It was coming up on six in the morning, and she needed some sleep if she was going to head back to trade shifts with Jude. She was halfway to her destination when the phone rang. Groaning inwardly, Lucy went back to pick it up, pulling the cord a distance away so she could sit down in the chair.

"Hello?"

"Hey, love." was the reply, and even in her half-asleep state, Lucy could tell that voice from anywhere.

"Oh, hey, Jude," Lucy replied tiredly. "How is she?"

"She's sleepin' for now," he told her. His voice sounded drained and weary with stress. "I just got off the phone with me mum. She sends her love. She feels bad that she can't do much of anything to help."

"Julia was the same way."

"How 'bout everyone in New York?"

"They're worried, of course. I told them Lizzy was okay, but…"

"Yeah," Jude sighed. There was a short silence on the phone line before he spoke again. "I'm worried about Lizzy, too, Luce."

Lucy immediately became concerned. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I took 'er up to see Paul…and before she went to sleep, she told me she wanted to go home. And she didn't mean to the Harrisons' place, either."

"Oh."

"She wants 'er family," Jude explained. "And I think she's blamin' 'erself for what's happened to Paul."

"What do we do, Jude?"

"I dunno," Jude sighed again. "Listen, if ya have any ideas, call Lizzy's room, all right?"

"Yeah."

"Love ya."

"Love you, too."

Lucy hung up the phone, feeling much more miserable than she had before. She had no idea what to do. Her baby was in the hospital, in pain and homesick--how was she supposed to sleep _now_? Nevertheless, she dragged herself back over to the couch, sat down, and let the tears come rushing back. Lucy had been crying for about five minutes when Mrs. Harrison came down the stairs and found the poor, troubled mother alone and upset.

"Lucy?" Maggie asked, approaching the young woman. She sat down beside her as Lucy wiped away the last of her tears. "What's the matter? You look exhausted…why don't you go on up to bed?"

Lucy shook her head, pushing a chunk of hair out of her face. "I don't know what to do, Maggie…"

"About what?"

"Jude called," she clarified, sniffling. "He said Lizzy's having a rough time with things. She misses everyone in New York, and she feels terrible about the accident."

Mrs. Harrison smiled, hooking her arm around the younger woman's shoulders, pulling her closer. "Don't worry," Maggie reassured her. "I know how we can fix this."

Lucy stared up at her, hope flickering in her bloodshot, cerulean eyes. "How?"

"Charlie and I will pay for everyone to fly here to see Lizzy. It's early--graduation isn't for awhile--but we have plenty of room. Everyone can stay 'til then, and even if they aren't going to the ceremony, they'll be here for the party. She would love that."

"I can't ask you to…you've already done so much for us…I can't…"

"Don't worry, Lucy," Maggie said again. "Lizzy wants her family, so we'll bring her family to her."

* * *

It was six in the morning, and Max was freaking out inside.

Val was watching him from the living room couch as he paced back and forth across the carpet, eyes fixed on the floor. He had started pacing once he got sick of playing musical chairs with various pieces of furniture; he hadn't been able to sit down for longer than three minutes after getting off the phone with Lucy and hearing about the car accident Lizzy was involved in.

"Max, you do that any longer, you're going to wear a track in the carpet."

Max ignored his wife's comment, the humor not able to break his shitty frame of mind at the current moment. He continued to pace, lost in his thoughts. Lizzy…his beautiful, wonderful niece… He shuddered, picturing her broken and scared in a hospital bed thousands of miles away from where he was. It brought back memories; horrible memories of Vietnam and Max himself lying in a hospital surrounded by the wounded and dying. Sure, Lizzy's case wasn't as extensive as his had been, but he could relate at least on _some_ level.

There was a knock on the door--quiet, but urgent--that tore the veteran from his thoughts. Before Val was even standing, he had already reached the door. Not bothering to check to see who it was, Max unlocked the chain and tugged the door open.

He was instantly met with the faces of four very sullen looking adults. Prudence and Rita were standing in the front with Sadie and JoJo behind them. JoJo had his arm wrapped around Sadie's waist, his hand resting on her hip while her head leaned against his chest. Prudence and Rita had their arms slung around each other's shoulders.

"Sorry to bother you, Max," Prudence said quietly. "We haven't been able to sleep since Lucy called."

Max let the weary-eyed adults in, closing the door behind the group. "We haven't had much luck, either."

Prudence, Rita, Sadie, and JoJo settled themselves onto the chairs and the couch with Valerie, sitting in an uncomfortable, nervous silence. Neither of them had any idea what to do with themselves, or what to say about the current situation. They hadn't had to deal with something so serious since Lizzy left them all those years ago. Everything had been pretty tame since then; minor things had happened, like one of the kids getting stitches or little Max having surgery to get his appendix taken out. But there was a major difference between those occurrences and the one that was happening now. Now, they couldn't be there by Lizzy's side--they couldn't offer any physical comfort to Lucy or Jude, either.

And it wasn't just Lizzy they were worried about. Lucy had told them about Paul, too. Although the group of adults had only met him once, they knew he was a good kid, and they understood how close he and Lizzy were, especially now that their relationship was beyond just plain friendship. They knew Lizzy was okay; she had made it out of the accident with some injuries, none of them becoming too serious. From what Lucy had shared, they were told that Paul had received the worst of it, since he had been the one driving at the time. They could only hope that he would make it out of this all right, if not for himself and his family, but for Lizzy's sake as well. She would be a wreck if something tragic happened…

Sadie sighed, either to let her emotions out or to break the stony silence that had settled among the group. She didn't know which--maybe a little of both. "Our baby's hurtin'," the singer stated. "And we can't even be there…"

"Why couldn't she have come to New York sooner?" Prudence murmured. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"You don't know that, sweet pea," Sadie countered. "This could've happened anywhere."

There was finality in their words, something that irritated Max. They were talking about her as if something worse had happened--as if the accident had been fatal. Lizzy was alive, _damn it_. She was alive and probably scared shitless. Max knew he would be, if he were in her position. Lizzy most likely had never been through something this traumatic. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that this ordeal had probably messed with her head a bit.

"She's okay," Max said firmly, more to reassure himself than anyone else in the room, "She'll be okay."

The phone suddenly rang, making everyone jump at the unexpected, shrill sound. Max jumped from his temporary seat to grab it. "Hello?"

"Max, it's Lucy."

"Hey, Luce," the elder Carrigan replied. The adults in the room snapped to attention upon hearing Lucy's name mentioned, and attempted to piece together what was being said. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Lucy answered. "Just tell everyone to pack their bags--and I mean _everyone_. Max, Michelle, Jimi and Eleanor included. You have a flight booked for one in the afternoon. You're coming to Florida--indefinitely."

"Is Lizzy okay?"

"She's fine. She just needs you guys here, that's all."

Max felt like he had won some amazing, spur-of-the-moment prize. "All right. We'll be there. But how are we paying for--"

"The Harrisons are taking care of it."

"Okay. See you tomorrow, Luce."

Max hung up the phone, turning around to face his friends and wife, only to be met with confused stares.

"What's going on, man?" JoJo questioned.

"Better start packing," Max advised. "We've got a one o'clock flight to Florida."

Valerie's eyes lit up, as did the rest of the adults. "All of us?"

Max nodded. "Everyone," he confirmed. "We're going to see Lizzy."

* * *

Lizzy had no idea how long she had slept, but it felt as though it had been an eternity. She remembered waking up a few times, only staying conscious for a couple minutes--long enough for the nurse to check her vitals, or for her father to ask if she needed anything. Even then, she had been in a haze, most likely from exhaustion and the pain meds flowing through her system. There had been a time that she'd woken up for another reason, though.

Before tearing herself from sleep, she recalled seeing herself standing on the corner of the sidewalk, near the intersection where the accident took place. The Lizzy that stood on the sidewalk watched as the Lizzy and Paul in Mr. Harrison's car were struck by another car. This time, there wasn't anyone around to see it--only the horror-struck Lizzy looking on from the sidelines. After the sounds of the crash settled, a deafening silence took its place. Then, suddenly, there was screaming. Lizzy realized that _she_ was the one screaming as she propelled herself off the curb and to the mangled car, pounding on the doorframe. She looked in to see Paul hunched over the steering wheel, and the "second" Lizzy slumped against the cracked window. She was an outsider glancing in on herself and Paul--a sort of freaky, out-of-boy experience--except the scene was different. No one was around…no one was coming to help…it was all _wrong_.

Lizzy was relieved to wake up and find that it had been a dream, and nothing more. She faintly remembered her father standing beside the bed, making sure she was okay and asking what was wrong. Then, she drifted off once her head hit the pillow.

She wasn't really awake now. Well, she _was _awake--she could tell that it was late afternoon, probably, judging from the intensity of the sunlight hitting her eyelids--but she had yet to open up her eyes. And she didn't want to--not yet. After seeing Paul yesterday, she didn't want to look at the stark white rooms, the less-than-comfortable bed sheets, the machines beeping and flashing. She wanted to leave; run away and escape these walls. When was she going _home_? Not soon enough, unfortunately.

Lizzy kept her eyes shut, contemplating whether or not to just got back to sleep. She wasn't tired enough for that, so she focused her ears on the sounds in the room, the hushed conversation that seemed to be getting louder, including more people. The people sounded dream-like, their voices distorted. Lizzy almost thought for a moment that she was imagining them. Too many pain meds, perhaps…

She felt someone poke at her sheets, near her leg, almost as if the person was trying to wake her up. However, she didn't open her eyes.

"Max, leave her alone, honey," A familiar female voice scolded, "She's sleeping."

_Was that…Aunt Valerie? No, it couldn't possibly be…there's _no _way… _Lizzy thought. Although, it sounded _a lot _like her.

"How long does she have to stay?" Another familiar voice asked. This time, Lizzy could've sworn that it sounded like Sadie. Her raspy singer's voice was unmistakable.

"Doctor said she can go sometime in the next two days," Lizzy heard her father say, his accent distinct. "They kept 'er a bit longer 'cause she was havin' some trouble with the pain."

"How long will she be outta school?" she heard her Uncle Max ask. _Wait a minute…_Uncle Max_?_

"A few weeks, until her ribs heal. That's what they're worried about the most. She has to take it easy for awhile. She'll be mostly recovered by the time she has her finals." Lucy replied.

"Well, I can come over and keep her company when I don't have school," Lizzy thought she heard her younger cousin, Michelle, suggest. "And I can paint her nails for her." Someone muttered an 'of course' in response to Michelle's offer, and it could only be Eleanor.

Lizzy thought that maybe now was a good time to open up her eyes, seeing as she was confused to no end. Slowly, she let her eyes flutter open, and as the room came into focus, she saw that she was, in fact, surrounded by the familiar faces of her family. Everyone was there--her parents, Max, Val, little Max, Michelle, Sadie, JoJo, Eleanor and Jimi, Prudence and Rita… The room had changed a bit since the last time she had woken up, too. It was no longer plain and boring. There were vibrant flowers, colorful balloons and handmade cards everywhere to liven the place up.

"Well, look who's up!" Prudence smiled.

"Hey, sweet pea. How are you feeling?" Sadie asked.

"Okay," Lizzy answered, still a little puzzled. "How…how did all of you get here?"

"With a little help from the Harrisons." Lucy told her. She nodded, not believing that they were all truly here. It was nice--having home come to her. Maybe now, recovering from this would be a bit easier.

* * *

**A/N: So, there you have it, Chapter 29. There will be more interaction between Lizzy and her family in the next chapter, as well as Paul.**

** Oh, and although this fic isn't over yet, I have some news for all of you: I am planning a prequel to "Dizzy Miss Lizzy". I will probably work on finishing this fic and the prequel before I get back to my other fic, "Anna, Go To Him" (Chapter 2 is up, btw!). Just wanted to let you guys know…**

**Here's a new trivia question! Who was the first Beatle to get married?**

**Please review :)**


	30. Glad All Over

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that's from ATU or The Beatles. Unfortunately. The answer to the trivia question is John Lennon. Congrats to all who answered(and everyone who answered did get it right!)…especially Bookish0278 and AllYouNeedIsLove3, who answered quite thoroughly…lol.**

Sunlight spilled through the window of Lizzy's hospital room as she sat, drawing with her sketch pad laid out on the swiveling table connected to the bed. She felt considerably better than she had in the past few days, due to the amount of visits from family members and the improvements on her condition. She was happy to be drawing again, although having a cast on her wrist made it difficult. However, it kept her occupied when she was alone or wasn't able to sleep late at night.

There was a small knock on the door courtesy of Lucy, who was announcing her presence before entering the room. Lizzy looked up from her drawing and smiled.

"Hey." Lucy sat down on the edge of the bed, and Lizzy closed the sketch pad, pushing the table out of the way. The teen noticed that her mother's smile was noticeably brighter today--something was definitely up. "What's going on?"

"Well, it just so happens that I have some good news…"

"Oh, yeah? There isn't any bad news attached to this, is there?"

"Nope."

"Really? Okay, good. Tell me."

"The doctor is letting you go home today," Lucy said brightly. "And…"

"_And_?" Lizzy prompted.

"Paul is out of the ICU and doing very well. He'll have to stay in the hospital another week or so, but…you'll be able to visit him before we go."

Lizzy's smile got brighter, if that was even possible. Her cerulean eyes lit up, the life within them more vibrant than they had been since the accident. Knowing that Paul was okay, and that he was going to recover and be just fine gave her a strong feeling of hope that she hadn't had before.

"Your father is bringing over some clothes for you to change into," Lucy continued. Lizzy smirked, amused at the thought of her father trying to pick out an outfit for her to wear. "I'll take you up to Paul's room before he gets here."

"Can we go now? _Please_?" Lizzy begged, sticking out her lower lip. Lucy, who couldn't ever resist _that _face, rolled her eyes. _Some things never change. _

"You know, you made that exact same face when you were little?"

"_Mom_…"

"All right, all right. We can go _now_, if that's what you want."

"Of course it is!"

Lucy got to her feet, and brought over the wheelchair that had been sitting in the corner of the room ever since Lizzy's last visit to Paul. She had told Lizzy's nurse that she was going to take her daughter to see her friend, so the nurse wouldn't freak out if she came and saw that she was gone. Lucy gingerly helped the eighteen-year-old--who was still quite sore almost _everywhere_--into the wheelchair before the two of them left the room. They took the elevator up a floor and went down a maze of hallways to get to Paul's room.

As Lizzy and Lucy approached the doorway, Lizzy silently prayed that Paul was awake. She wanted nothing more than to talk to him; to see with her own eyes that he was okay. Lucy reached out and knocked on the door that was slightly ajar.

"Come in." said a familiar, albeit hoarse voice. Lizzy shared a glance with her mother, and Lucy wheeled her into the room. Paul's bed was elevated so that he was sitting up somewhat--as best as someone who was recovering from surgery could, at least. To Lizzy, it was good to see him returning to his old self, free of breathing machines and tubes. Paul, meanwhile, was happy to see his girlfriend, whom he hadn't spoken to since the night of the accident. He smiled when Lucy pushed the wheelchair over to him, placing her by his bedside.

"I'll give you two some space," Lucy told them. Then to Lizzy, she said, "I'll be back in a little while." Lizzy nodded and watched her mother leave before turning to her boyfriend. They smiled at each other, sharing a silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. Because, really, what does one say after going through an ordeal such as this?

Lizzy looked at him, and suddenly, she felt hot tears running down her face. Maybe she was happy, or maybe she was sad--she wasn't really sure. Concerned, Paul reached over and took Lizzy's hand in his, and rubbed circles into the back of her palm.

"Please don't cry, Lizzy." He seemed to know what she was crying about. She was upset over the accident, and for whatever reason, she felt guilty.

"I-I'm sorry." she cried, trying to wipe away the tears.

"None of this is your fault."

"But I--"

"Lizzy, you have no reason to blame yourself for what happened, okay?" he reassured her. "We're both gonna be all right. Trust me."

And she did. Lizzy did trust him. She needed him to tell her they were okay--that's what she needed all along. He was always the one to keep her going, and optimistic. Without him, she knew she wouldn't have made it to New York in the first place, let alone successfully find her parents.

Lizzy brushed away the last of her tears, and Paul smirked. After a moment or two, he broke the silence. "I can't believe we managed to ruin two of Charlie's most expensive cars." She laughed nodding.

"Leave it to us, huh?"

"It's a known fact--we're a couple of troublemakers. Always have been."

"We weren't voted 'Double Trouble' in grade school for nothing…"

Paul laughed. "Exactly," he agreed. Changing topics, he said, "So, when are they letting you go?"

"Today, actually," she replied. "I won't be able to do anything for awhile. My mom said that neither of us will go back to school until finals."

"_Great_," Paul groaned. "Just in time for exams. Doesn't it figure?"

Lizzy nodded. "Well, once you get out of here, and I'm feeling better, I'll come over and study with you, as per tradition."

"Sounds like a plan," he answered. "So, what are you gonna do to occupy yourself for the next couple weeks?"

"I have no idea. My entire family is here, so I probably won't be _too_ bored. I'll think of something…"

"Your family is here?"

"Yeah, they all flew in to see me--everyone except Julia and her fiancé. Their flight gets in the morning of graduation. And everyone else is staying at the Harrisons' until then, too. I'm guessing the house is going to be crazy…"

"I can only imagine," Paul laughed. "I mean, that house is pretty big, but there isn't enough bedrooms to fit everyone. So, I wouldn't be surprised if you went home to find people sleeping in the most random spots."

"Uh-huh," Lizzy smirked. "God…I can't believe we're graduating next month."

"Yeah," Paul said, his tone not carrying as much enthusiasm as Lizzy's. There was a hint of underlying sadness in his voice. "I can't believe it."

* * *

It had been a week. A long, and somewhat boring week. Well, not exactly _boring_…it was just that Lizzy was getting extremely _restless_. She was under strict orders from her doctor to not do anything too strenuous, and as a precaution, Lucy had advised her to stay in bed, only getting up when absolutely necessary. She was going crazy. Her family was here, and she couldn't really visit with them to the extent that she might've liked. What was worse was that the weather outside was beautiful--she would've given anything to go to the beach. But, unfortunately, she was stuck on bed rest for at least another week.

Michelle had painted her fingernails and toenails twice. She had played with Max and his action figures several times. Eleanor and Lizzy had spent an afternoon making up stories, and Lizzy had discussed music and bands with Jimi for a good hour and a half one day. She'd drawn pictures and cartoons until she filled up an entire sketch pad and had blisters on her fingers from using the pencil for too long. She had talked to Paul--he was home from the hospital now--on the phone almost every day for close to a half hour. But, she was itching for something else to do.

She'd asked JoJo if he could teach her to play guitar--something she'd been meaning to ask him for awhile. He seemed happy about the idea; Lizzy didn't know that he had wanted to teach her to play when she was little.

"I'd love to," he'd said. "but it'd be kinda hard…ya know, with your wrist in a cast."

"Yeah." Lizzy had agreed. She hadn't really thought that through. Drawing was one thing, but playing an instrument was something entirely different.

"I'll tell ya what…I'll teach ya when we go back to New York."

So, that had eventually been decided upon. But that didn't help Lizzy right _now_.

In the end, Lizzy had settled on doing homework, simply because there wasn't anything left to do and it needed to be done anyway. It was mostly review for finals; packets and review sheets that both Lucy and Jude had taken turns picking up from Lizzy's high school. They had decided to take up that particular task, since they had never been to the school and had never met any of Lizzy's teachers.

Lizzy had been working on her math review sheet on the Tuesday of her second, agonizing week on bed rest when Jude came in.

"Yer art teacher called," he declared. "H was wonderin' if it was possible for someone to pick up your artwork, so I'm headin' over there now."

"Lucky you," Lizzy joked. "You get to see my painting first."

* * *

Jude walked down the hallway, slowly approaching the art room. The halls were vacant; the day had ended, so most of the students had gone home. He entered the art studio, the familiar smell of paint and charcoal assailing his nostrils. The room was a good size; there were art supplies stored all around the space, and easels were either standing to hold a painting or folded up and set against a wall. Some of the students' finished pieces were displayed on the walls as well. Jude spotted Lizzy's art teacher in the back of the room, sifting through a file cabinet.

"'ello?" Jude called. Mr. Henderson turned around.

"Oh, hi…sorry about that," Mr. Henderson said, making his way over to Jude. "You must be Mr. Feeny, Lizzy's dad."

"Yeah."

"Robert Henderson," the older man said, shaking Jude's hand. "I had the privilege of teaching your daughter for the past four years. She's a very talented artist--one of my best students."

"Thank you."

"I was just getting her work together," Mr. Henderson went over to a nearby table, gesturing to Lizzy's portfolio that he had laid out. "Back here is the painting she did--the one that I put into the student art show." Jude followed him to the back of the classroom, where the painting sat on an easel.

He was instantly astonished. The painting was beautiful; the detail was amazing, the colors were vivid, and the creativity and symbolism was stunning. He immediately recognized the three people in the painting--the man standing on the earth was himself, the woman floating among the clouds was definitely Lucy, and the girl in between them was Lizzy. The phrases underneath each of them helped add to the symbolism of the painting, too.

"What was the assignment?" Jude asked.

"They were supposed to paint something that's important to them."

Jude nodded, understanding. Lizzy finding Lucy and Jude--and ultimately finding out who she really was--had been important to her. She had been very proud to accomplish that.

"Is Lizzy the only artist in the family?" Mr. Henderson asked, curious.

Jude laughed. "No," he answered. "I do a bit of art meself."

"Ah, so that's where the talent comes from…"

"Apparently." Jude shrugged, ever humble.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Feeny. Tell Lizzy I tope she feels better, and I'll see her at graduation."

"I will," Jude said. "Thank you, sir." He carefully lifted the painting from the easel and gathered up Lizzy's portfolio to take back with him.

When he got to the Harrisons' house, most of the adults were in the living room, while the kids were off in different parts of the house, hopefully not getting into too much trouble, or breaking anything that looked expensive. Little Max had already broken a vase that Mrs. Harrison graciously claimed afterward that it was 'okay', and then proceeded to clean up the mess without a big deal.

"Oh, you got Lizzy's artwork," Lucy said, once she saw her husband walk into the room with a huge piece of canvas and a folder containing a pretty large stack of papers. "Let's see them."

Jude set the canvas painting against one of the tables so everyone could look at it, and he placed the portfolio on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Sadie, JoJo, Rita and Val poured over the folder of drawings first, admiring the detail and the varying methods of shading and mediums used. Meanwhile, Lucy, Max, and Prudence stared at the painting, awestruck. None of them had had a chance to see any of Lizzy's work in this sort of capacity before.

"Holy shit," was Max's response, of course. He let out a low whistle. "I dunno, man," he said, looking at Jude with a smirk plastered on his face, "She's givin' you a run for your money." Jude only shook his head, laughing.

"Wow." Lucy said, her fingers tracing over the woman with flowing, blond hair in the painting, and recognizing it as herself. The likeness of herself--as well as Jude and Lizzy--was amazing.

Prudence smiled, pointing to the earth where Jude stood. She found that the land painted on it was a rough outline of the United Kingdom, to symbolize where Jude had come from, and Lizzy's own newfound heritage.

"That's _so_ cool." she giggled.

Sadie got up to have a look for herself. She turned to Lucy and Jude, a knowing smile on her face. "She's going to make a hell of an art teacher."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all liked it! Please review! I don't have a trivia question this time, but I could use your help. I need you guys to think of a Beatles-related last name for Paul…it would help me out a lot, because I need it for the graduation--which is the next chapter! I can't believe they're graduating…tear…haha. **


	31. Ob La Di, Ob La Da

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I do own Lizzy and Paul, though. **

**A/N: Once again, thank you all for reading and reviewing!! **

In a matter of a few weeks, all of the reviewing and studying had been finished, and finals had come and gone. The seniors managed to pass with flying colors, despite all of the slacking and procrastinating caused by a well known disease by the name of Senioritis. Lockers were cleaned out, yearbooks were passed around, and the goodbyes had been said. It was a bittersweet time for all; the students were sad to leave their friends, but were excited about moving on to college.

Lizzy couldn't believe it had come so quickly. It seemed like she and Paul were just a couple of overwhelmed, awkward freshmen, and now it was time to graduate--it was the end of their high school years. So much had happened in between then, especially this year. Who would've thought that Lizzy would find out a huge secret that ended up changing her life so dramatically? She never pictured herself moving to New York City to live with a bunch of ex-hippies she now called her family, and going to her dream art school. It was surreal, but she couldn't be happier about it.

Then again, she was happy about a lot of things at the moment. She was feeling much better now that her ribs had healed and the stitches on her forehead had been taken out last week. Although she had to wear the stupid cast on her wrist for another week or so, she was able to function normally. Lizzy was also quite happy that Paul was recovered and doing just fine, even though the question of their relationship was weighing on her mind more heavily these days. She was leaving for New York with her family in two days, which gave her enough time to finish packing and say her goodbyes.

She pushed the problem to the back of her mind again, and commanded it to stay there, for at least today. Today was supposed to be exciting--it was graduation, after all. It was something to be celebrated, and Lizzy was determined not to let the little issue worry her right now. Instead, she concentrated on the task at hand, which was preparing herself for the graduation ceremony that was to be held in the courtyard of the high school at one o'clock in the afternoon.

Lizzy stood in front of the mirror in her room, putting loose curls in her dark brown hair with the hand-held curling iron. She had on a royal blue party dress with spaghetti straps; it was something dressy to wear for the party later on, because the graduating class was supposed to wear traditional caps and gowns. Michelle had painted her nails an hour ago with a matching shade of blue, so that was one thing Lizzy didn't have to worry about.

Once she was done curling her hair and it was styled the way she wanted it, Lizzy put the strawberry pendant around her neck, slipped into her black flats, and walked down the stairs to the living room. Those who were going to the graduation ceremony were busy getting ready, having packed dress clothes just because Lucy had said they were staying in Florida indefinitely. Those who weren't going to the ceremony were occupied with getting ready for the party afterward. Mrs. Harrison felt bad for putting them to work, since they were guests, but Sadie and the others had insisted on helping while they were gone. Eleanor and Michelle were helping Sadie, Prudence and Rita with the food, while JoJo, Jimi, and little Max were putting up decorations and setting up tables in the backyard. Lucy and Jude had left a half hour ago to pick up Julia and her fiancé, Henry, from the airport, and they were due back any minute.

"Lizzy," Mrs. Harrison called, entering the living room. "I ironed your gown for you." She laid the black graduation gown over the back of the couch, and set the cap beside it on the cushions.

"Thanks." Lizzy replied, grateful. She wasn't sure if Maggie had heard her or not, because she was out of the room and trying to take care of something else faster than she had spoken. The entire family was in an excited frenzy--mostly because Lizzy was the first one of the group that was going to go to college and actually had the intention of following _through _with it.

"Lizzy!" A new voice called. The teenager recognized the voice, and spun around to see Julia, Henry, Lucy and Jude coming in the front door. Julia, who was already dressed for the ceremony, looked at her niece from head to toe and smiled. "You look so beautiful!"

Lizzy embraced her aunt, grinning. "Thank you--so do you." Julia thanked her, and put an arm around the young man Lizzy guessed to be her aunt's fiancé. He was tall, with short, jet black hair and hazel eyes, and he, too, was dressed for the ceremony already.

"Lizzy, this is your future uncle, Henry."

Henry reached out to shake Lizzy's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too. Thanks for coming."

"Is everyone almost ready?" Lucy question, picking up her daughter's cap and gown from the couch.

Lizzy shrugged. "Uh…I'm not sure…you might wanna go check."

"All right. It's twelve o'clock now, so we have to get going soon--they wanted you to be there a little before twelve-thirty, right?"

The teenager nodded, and Lucy went outside to put Lizzy's cap and gown in the car. Meanwhile, Jude volunteered to go around the house to find everyone who was going and see if they were ready. Lizzy helped Julia carry her and Henry's belongings up to the room where she and her fiancé would be staying. They were only staying overnight; their flight home was in the afternoon tomorrow.

Lizzy spent a few minutes ambling around the house, asking if she could help with anything, since she didn't have much to do. Her family members always declined her offer, because it was "her day" and they wanted her to "enjoy it and relax". They didn't want to put her to work, even though she was eager to help. After awhile, Lizzy sat with Julia and Henry in the living room and talked to them until it was time to leave.

When they arrived at the high school, Lizzy was immediately sent to the gym--cap and gown in tow--while the rest of her family went outside to find their seats in the courtyard. The atmosphere in the gym was absolutely crazy. There was a mix of students who weren't yet dressed in their black gowns, and those who were. Some of the girls were crying already, giving their friends hugs. Some seniors were taking the opportunity to pose for pictures or get a last minute signature in their yearbook. Teachers scurried in and out of the crowd, trying to tell everyone to get their caps and gowns on. There was definitely a lot happening all at once.

Lizzy hopped up onto one of the fold-up bleachers and scanned the mob of seniors for Paul. She spotted his mop of sandy blond hair on the other side of the gym and instantly maneuvered toward him.

"Paul!" she called, and flung herself at him, cap and gown still in either hand. The two of them embraced, laughing.

"This is insane…" Paul mused, looking around at their classmates.

"I _know_," Lizzy replied, setting her cap on the bleacher nearby while she slid the gown over her head. Paul was already dressed--cap and all. "It came up so fast." She placed the cap on her head, blowing the tassel off her face.

"_Too_ fast." Paul agreed. Way, _way_ too fast, in his opinion. Lizzy was leaving for New York two days from now, and he had no idea how to handle that…

"Are you and your mom coming to the party at the Harrisons' place after?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we are."

"Cool," Lizzy replied. "You should see the size of the cake Maggie bought. I feel like we're going to be eating cake for breakfast tomorrow."

"And I bet Max will be trying to stick his fingers in it when he thinks no one is looking."

Lizzy laughed. "Which Max?"

"Good point," Paul stated, laughing too. "Might have to keep an eye on both of 'em."

Lizzy nodded, just as the principal told the class to start lining up in alphabetical order. Paul and Lizzy were unfortunately in different ends of the alphabet. Lizzy leaned in and shared a kiss with her boyfriend before skipping off to the beginning portion of the line that was starting to form. Paul sauntered toward the back of the line, shaking his head. She was confusing the hell out of him, that was for sure. She was leaving soon, and yet she was going on like they were okay. What if things changed? She had yet to tell him what was going on…

The familiar tune of Pomp and Circumstance filled the warm, summer air as the senior class walked down the center aisle. The rows of family members stood, taking pictures or videotaping their respective soon-to-be high school graduate. Some of the adults couldn't contain their emotion, and let the tears flow, proudly smiling at their son or daughter, grandchild or niece or nephew.

Lizzy caught sight of her family and grinned at them, making her way down the aisle and up to the stage, where chairs had been set up for the entire class. The graduates remained standing while the rest of their classmates filed in and made it to their seats. Once the last of Pomp and Circumstance ceased, the congregation of family members sat down, and the students followed suit.

The principal went up to the podium first to address the family members, and tell them how far the class had come since their freshman year. She listed off the different colleges that the students were going to attend, and how much scholarship money the entire class earned as a whole. When the principal was done speaking, the salutatorian and the valedictorian gave their speeches, provoking a few laughs and equally as many tears from their fellow graduates as they recalled their four years together.

Finally, it was time to hand out the diplomas. Lizzy waited anxiously in her seat, wringing her slightly sweaty hands and craning her neck to catch another glimpse of her family. _Don't trip…do not fall…remember to smile… _She told herself nervously. Things moved rather quickly, and before Lizzy knew it, her row was standing up and getting ready to get their diplomas.

"Elizabeth Julia Feeny."

Taking a deep breath, Lizzy walked across the stage to receive her diploma from the principal. She heard her family cheering for her--quite loudly--which made her blush a bit, especially when Max yelled, "Yeah Lizzy!" during a dead silence when her family's cheering had stopped. Lizzy took her diploma, smiled, and walked back to her seat, managing not to trip or fall, thankfully. She sat, staring at and re-reading her diploma as the rest of the class went up to get their own. When it was Paul's row's turn to stand, he glanced back at Lizzy and smiled. She grinned back at him, and gave him a thumbs up.

"Paul Rigby."

Lizzy clapped for Paul, along with her family and his mother. He got his diploma without a problem, and returned to his seat, turning around to smile at Lizzy again. 'We did it!' he mouthed to her silently, to which she nodded. Lizzy watched as the students in the end of the alphabet got their diplomas, and then the principal told them to stand.

The principal stood proudly at the podium and gestured to the large group of students. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the graduating class of 1986."

There was an uproar of applause, and cheering from the students. Suddenly, all at once, they threw their caps into the air, and they rained down as they continued to cheer and hug each other. It was official--they had graduated.

"Congratulations, Miss Lizzy…" Paul said when they found each other after the ceremony. Lizzy hugged him, placing a light kiss on his lips.

"You, too," Lizzy replied. "Who would've thought we would make it through high school alive and…well, _mostly _in one piece…"

"Yeah," Paul agreed, nodding. "I gotta go find my mom…I'll see you at the Harrisons'."

"Okay." Lizzy and Paul went their separate ways for the time being, trying to find their families. Along the way, she was approached by Mr. Henderson, who stopped her and gave her his own congratulations.

"Have fun in New York, Lizzy. You'll do great in that college."

"Thank you, Mr. Henderson. You've been a great teacher--I probably wouldn't have made into that school if it wasn't for you."

Mr. Henderson laughed. "Good luck next year."

"Thanks!" Lizzy called, heading off to find her family. Once she found them, she was bombarded by many 'congratulations' and 'good job' well wishes, on top of a lot of hugs and kisses.

"All right," Max announced. "Let's party."

And party they did--until midnight, in fact. It was an interesting, slightly crazy affair to say the least. They ate the large spread Mrs. Harrison had prepared for dinner, and just before it came time to cut into the cake, chaos ensued. It was started by little Max, who was encouraged by his father to take a fistful of the dessert and launch it at Valerie. Which he did, and in turn, started a cake war between everyone--even Paul, his mom, the Harrisons, and Julia and Henry participated. By the time the whole thing ended, everyone was plastered with frosting and cake, and there was barely enough left that was salvageable to eat. So, the majority of the family ended up eating the ice cream instead.

Once everyone had changed and the sun had set, JoJo took out his guitar and he and Sadie sang for hours while many of the partygoers danced and sang along. Lizzy and Paul were able to forget--if only for a little bit--about their impending problem, sharing a few dances together. The family finished the festivities off with a fun upbeat song with a chorus that was easy to pick up; everyone was singing along, joined in a large circle as their voices blended together and filled the night air.

"_Ob-la-di Ob-la-da life goes on bra _

_Lala how the life goes on _

_Ob-la-di Ob-la-da life goes on bra _

_Lala how the life goes on…" _


	32. You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. **

**A/N: Thank you all so, so much for the reviews! And, thanks to those of you who gave me suggestions for Paul's last name in the last chapter… Here's chapter 32, enjoy!**

The room Lizzy had used for over fifteen years of her life was now pretty much vacant. The walls were bare, the closet was empty, and most of the dresser drawers had been cleaned out. Boxes piled in the far corner contained items she didn't think necessary to take along with her to New York--old clothes, books and other childhood toys that hadn't seen the light of day in a year or two. She'd told the Harrisons to donate them to charity so they wouldn't go to waste.

There were a couple of book bags and a suitcase filled with the last of her belongings that she planned to take with her sitting at the foot of the bed. Lizzy was in the process of packing a few last minute things before she left tomorrow. She had her messenger bag on top of the bed, her sketchpad lying beside it.

Someone knocked on the door as she was placing the sketchbook into her bag. She called for that someone to come in, and wasn't surprised to see Paul enter. He stood by the door at first, looking around Lizzy's room with a certain shock in his eyes. How had the time flown by so quickly? It seemed like Lizzy moving to New York had just been nothing more than an_ idea_ a few months ago…something that Paul didn't think would truly ever happen. And now it was.

Was it selfish of him to want Lizzy to stay here? Was it wrong of him to wish that the Harrisons had kept their secret, so that Lizzy could go about the rest of her life never knowing she had been adopted? So she wouldn't have to leave him?

"Almost packed, huh?" he asked finally.

"Yeah…just a couple more things."

"It looks so…_weird_."

Paul had known Lizzy long enough that he'd seen the various themes of her bedroom over the years. From the time that they had been friends--at age four--until about six, the walls had been white, as they were now, but there had been a wallpaper border of brightly colored stars of all shapes and sizes. Lizzy always had a thing with stars, even when she was little. Paul had also seen her room go through that crazy, preteen stage; he'd been thoroughly surprised when the Harrisons let her paint her own room when she was thirteen--they let her pick out the color and everything. She called him up that afternoon once she and Mr. Harrison had gone out to pick up the cans of paint, and asked him for his help. Lizzy had picked out some outrageous shade of green--a bright lime color. That color stayed until about last year, when she decided she'd had enough of it, and went back to white.

Now…it looked _different_. There was no life to it anymore. Nothing that showed off Lizzy's extraordinary personality and talents. There was such finality to its appearance; an end of yet another stage. Paul wouldn't really be there to see the next stage, the beginning of his best friend's life in New York. It was strange…because they had been together through everything else. Even trivial things like bedroom themes.

"You wanna go to the beach?" Lizzy asked, disrupting Paul's reverie.

"Uh…yeah, sure."

The reasons for the spontaneous trip to the beach were simple, Paul knew. Lizzy wanted to visit the beach one last time before she left; it was one of her--_their_--favorite places to go, and she would miss it. That, and Paul figured she had made the decision about their relationship. He'd told her it was completely up to her; whatever she chose was fine with him. If she wanted to continue a long-distance relationship, great. If she just wanted to go back to being friends, okay.

Except…right now, he was having second thoughts about that. Couldn't _he_ have some say in the matter, too? Why had he left it solely up to her in the first place? He would have to see how things played out. If he felt it necessary, he would just tell her--tell her how much he wanted her to just _stay_.

Next thing he knew, the two of them were riding their bikes to the beach, Lizzy racing up ahead of him, laughing with the wind blowing through her dark hair. He picked up his speed and pedaled alongside of her, smiling, acting as if it was like all of the other times they'd been there over the years. Paul tried his hardest to pretend, to trick his mind into believing that nothing was different about this particular trip, but failed miserably in doing so. It wasn't like the good old times. There wasn't anything _good _about it.

Lizzy and Paul stowed their bikes where they usually did, and made their way down to the sandy shore. Lizzy was already kicking off her sandals before they reached the water. Paul watched her, wondering what she was going to do next, or how she'd initiate the inevitable conversation. She was standing in the shallow water that only touched her bare ankles, digging her toes into the wet sand beneath. Paul went to stand beside her, sharing a long, awkward and tense--in Paul's opinion, at least--silence.

"Remember when we first met?" she asked, breaking the uneasy silence. Paul glanced up. The question caught him off guard; he hadn't really been expecting it.

"Yeah," Paul laughed, despite the underlying sadness the entire _day_ had carried so far, "I remember." Meeting Lizzy in pre-school was one of the few memories he'd had of his life at age four. Actually, it was one of the _better_ memories he'd had of that point in time. The bad one being the night that his father left him and his mother and never came back. Paul shook his head, ignoring the bad memory and focusing on the good one.

_It was the third day of pre-school, and Paul still hadn't made any friends--he hadn't made any real attempt to, either. He hadn't exactly gotten used to the idea of it yet. He was that _one _kid in his class of four-year-olds who always cried for his mother after she'd dropped him off. It was embarrassing, now that he looked back on it, but back then, it made a lot of sense. It was September; Paul's father had just left him and his mother in late July. He was still trying to wrap his little head around the fact that his dad wasn't coming back, and the fact that his mother dropped him off in this strange place every day and didn't return for a few hours didn't help any. He was always afraid that maybe one day, she would forget to pick him up, or decide to leave him here…_

_He'd been sitting in the corner of the classroom, playing with a few of the green plastic army figures by himself, watching the other kids. A lot of them had already formed groups, making friends easily. He just couldn't bring himself to do that. Paul hadn't spoken much to anyone except his mother after his father left. He went on minding his own business, hoping that one of his teachers wouldn't come over _again _to try and coax him into meeting new kids. _

_Paul had been focused intently on the army figures--that is, until he felt someone else hovering over him. Reluctantly, he looked up to see a girl standing above him, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her dark hair was up in pigtails, with blue ribbons tied in each that matched the color of her eyes. _

"_Hi." she said, smiling. Paul didn't know what to do, considering this had been the first time another kid had approached him like this. After crying each day for a good ten minutes straight once his mother left, the other kids tended to stay away from him. _

"_Hi." he managed to answer, his little voice barely above a whisper. Paul was known to be a very shy little boy. He was kind of hoping that she would leave him alone so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. _

_The girl kept grinning. "I'm Lizzy." she told him. _Lizzy_. He hadn't known it at that age (because at that age, it was a well-known fact that all girls had cooties), but that name would someday make his stomach do major flip-flops. _

_Paul nodded, thinking about the name of this girl, and looking her over. Maybe she wasn't so bad, he decided. She _was_ trying to be his friend…_

"_I'm Paul." _

"_Wha' are you doin' here?" she asked, to which Paul only shrugged. She glanced back at the other children, then at Paul, frowning. "Don't you 'ave any friends?" Paul shook his head. Lizzy stepped over to the side and sat down on the floor beside him, crossing her legs. She stared at him, innocent azure eyes sparkling. "Can I be your friend?" _

_Paul nodded, and unknowingly sealed a bond of friendship that would last for many years to come. _

Paul grinned. "You were the only one who wanted to be my friend at first," he recalled. "I was the class freak for awhile."

"You were _not_."

"Oh, come on. No one wanted to be friends with the kid who would cry for his mommy every single day for the first two weeks."

Lizzy shook her head, dismissing the topic. Paul suddenly laughed, remembering another point in their childhood, and decided to bring it up, as long as they were going to have the 'remember when' discussion. "Hey…remember when I kissed you when we were five?"

Lizzy nodded. She remembered that--she was the one who had brought it up after Paul kissed her on New Year's. "I was so mad at you." she replied.

"Well, some things never change…" Paul said, recalling Lizzy's less-than-excited reaction to the kiss he'd planted on her at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.

"Yeah," Lizzy mumbled. "Why'd you kiss me that time, anyway?" Paul shrugged.

"I think…I wanted to test out the 'girls have cooties' theory."

"Oh, so _that's _why you kissed me? To see if you could really get cooties? _Nice_."

"And then you slapped me."

"Yes, I did," Lizzy answered, laughing. "You had a red mark on the side of your face in the shape of handprint for the rest of the day." Paul smiled, rubbing a hand over his cheek nostalgically. Lizzy walked out of the water and went up onto the shore. He followed after her, and the two of them sat down on the warm sand.

"I've been thinking…" she said at last, digging her feet in the hot sand. Paul couldn't look at her. _Oh, God…here it comes…_he thought. Paul's stomach did nervous flip-flops; he'd been dreading this conversation for months. Why couldn't they just go back to reminiscing about their childhood? "…about this whole situation with our relationship."

"Yeah?"

"And really, Paul, I think we both know that we can't exactly have this boyfriend/girlfriend relationship when we're so far away from each other."

Paul's heart immediately sank. So, this was it. She was breaking up with him. She'd made him feel a little bit better by taking him here to their favorite spot, and talking about their memories together, and now she was going to ruin the moment. He knew it had been coming at _some_ point…

"It would be way too hard, especially with school and work, and whatever else we might have going on. You can understand that, right?"

Paul could see where she was coming from, and what point she was trying to make. They were all true, but…it just wasn't _fair_. He'd wanted this sort of relationship, and so had she. They had made it work for several long months…and now she was expecting the two of them to break up?

"It's not like I want to break _everything_ off," Lizzy continued. "I still want to be friends--I _never_ want to loose that--and I want to keep in touch, of course."

"Yeah."

"You understand, right, Paul?" she asked again.

"Yeah, sure--of course." he lied.

"You're not mad?"

_Damn it. Just _tell_ her already. You've gone this far without saying anything--tell her how you feel before it's too late. _Paul debated with himself, trying to figure out how to go about telling her that. He didn't want to come across as a complete selfish jerk, but he wanted to say _something_…

Suddenly, Paul stood up, avoiding Lizzy's gaze. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, letting out a prolonged sigh. Concern flittered across Lizzy's face, and for a few moments, she felt extremely horrible. The last thing she wanted to do was break up with Paul, but she didn't see how they could make their relationship _work_.

"Paulie?" she asked quietly, using the nickname only reserved for teasing and crucial moments such as these. Lizzy stood, placing a hand on his arm from behind. He didn't respond. "You're mad at me, aren't you? I'm sorry, but--"

"I'm not mad at _you_, Lizzy," he said. "I'm mad that you're leaving. I'm not trying to be selfish, but I…_really_ hate the idea of you being so far away."

"I know," She moved to stand next to him, and leaned her head in to rest against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's your family, and it's not my place to come between that. I just wish you could stay _here_." Paul met Lizzy's eyes with his own, brushing a finger along her cheek, which only caused her turn away. She picked her head off his shoulder, separating herself from him.

"You're making this harder." she told Paul. Paul tilted his head to the side curiously. She still had feelings for him--it was nice to know that that was being reciprocated. Lizzy started to walk away--heading for who-knew-where--but Paul grabbed her arm carefully and spun her around, forcing her to look at him.

"Lizzy…" he started.

"Paul, don't. _Please_. This is hard for me, too. Do you really think this is what I want to do on my last day here? Break up with my best friend? I wish we could find some way to continue this, but we can't. I wish I could take you with me, but we both know that won't happen. I belong in New York, and your mom needs you here. That's the way it has to be. We have to go back to being friends--nothing more. I'm sorry."

The words sounded harsh, but it was the truth. He _had_ to understand that.

Paul pulled Lizzy to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her, and she returned it, but only for a few seconds before she tore herself from his grip. The kiss hadn't been anything sweet and romantic like it had in the past, and judging from the expression on Lizzy's face, she hadn't enjoyed it very much. Paul hadn't expected it to go so terribly; the last thing _he _wanted to do was have Lizzy leave when they were on bad terms with each other.

"Lizzy," he said, his breathing uneven, "_Stay_. Please."

"I told you, Paulie," she replied, her voice breaking, tears burning in her eyes, "I can't."

She turned away from him again, and slipped into her sandals before running up the beach toward their bikes. Paul stayed where he was, watching her as she got on her bike and rode away. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face and slowly headed for his own bike once Lizzy was well out of sight.

_Damn it. _He thought miserably, _We've really screwed things up this time… _

"Hey, Lizzy, how was yer trip to the beach?" Jude asked when Lizzy stepped through the front door of the Harrisons' house. He'd been sitting in the living room, his sketchbook in his lap, trying his hardest to concentrate among the all the noise in the background. Lizzy didn't answer; she made a beeline for the stairs, and once she ran past him, he noticed the tears streaking her face. She ran up the staircase, and he heard the door slam a moment later. Ever the worried father, Jude set his sketchbook aside and went upstairs to have a talk with his distressed daughter. He had a feeling that her discussion with Paul hadn't gone as smoothly as she might've liked.

Hesitantly, Jude knocked on Lizzy's door. He was having second thoughts about trying to talk to her, thinking maybe Lucy or one of Lizzy's aunts were better suited for this sort of thing. He decided against it, though, once he realized that he could sort of sympathize with his daughter's plight.

"Lizzy?" he asked. "You want to talk about it, love?" There wasn't an answer or any form of a response from the other side of the door. "Can I come in, at least?"

"Uh-huh."

Well, that was _something_. He was thankful that she'd acknowledged his presence instead of pushing him away. All he wanted to do was try to help.

Jude opened the door and slid in, shutting it quietly behind himself. Lizzy was lying on the bed on her side, her back facing him. Every now and then, he could see her body shake with small, mostly silent sobs. Cautiously, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her back, gently rubbing back and forth, like he remembered doing when Lizzy was an infant. The father-daughter pair shared a long silence, then Jude spoke, still rubbing Lizzy's back. He never thought he would be having a discussion about boys with his teenage daughter…

"It's hard to leave someone behind that you love," he stated. "I know."

Lizzy rolled over onto her back to look up at him. "Yeah, but you got mom back."

"True, but we were apart for several months. I know what it's like, love. Trust me, you don't want to leave on bad terms."

"But it's so _frustrating_," Lizzy told Jude. "We both want to have a relationship like this, but we have to end it. It won't work out when we're on opposite ends of the coast. I want to stay friends, but somehow that doesn't seem like it's enough."

"It'll be enough, for now. As long as you keep in touch," Jude said. "It'll work out in the end."

"Not _all _of us are as lucky as you and mom."

Jude laughed. "Don't leave being angry with each other, Lizzy. You won't want to carry that guilt with you."

Lizzy nodded. She didn't want to ruin their friendship. That was the one thing she wanted to keep, if they couldn't have a romantic relationship. Jude smiled, kissed Lizzy's forehead, and left. Lizzy sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She needed to make amends with Paul…

Lizzy grabbed her bike for the second time that day and rode to Paul's apartment building. Paul's mother was home--she was just getting ready to head off to work--so she answered the door when she arrived.

"Is Paul here?" she asked, uncertain if Paul had returned home after their little disagreement at the beach.

"He's in his room." Ms. Rigby answered, ushering her inside. Lizzy went down the small, narrow hallway to Paul's bedroom, pausing once she reached his door. Heaving a sigh, she knocked.

"Paul…it's me, Lizzy."

There was a extensive period of silence. "Come in." he muttered. Lizzy opened the door and went inside, finding Paul sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. He'd been preoccupying himself with a hand-held game of some sort, which he tossed to the side once she entered. Biting her lip, she approached Paul, sitting down beside him, her legs crossed. Lizzy stared at Paul, waiting until he met her gaze, which he did a minute later.

"Can I be your friend?" she asked sheepishly. A grin tugged at the corner of Paul's mouth. He nodded, sealing their bond of friendship once more. It would have to be enough, for now.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked it… Please review! It's not the end, do not worry! **

**Although I do not have a trivia question, I have a different kind of question for you all: Who is your favorite Beatle, and why? Mine is John, for a variety of reasons. He was so cool…**


	33. Hello Goodbye

**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything you recognize from ATU or The Beatles.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing! It's appreciated, as always! Sorry for the delay…I was incredibly busy for the past several days, and I apologize in advance for the shortness of this chapter. I promise the next one will be longer. **

Lizzy stared at her empty room, her luggage gathered at her feet and in her arms. She set down her messenger bag that was to double as a carry-on, and took a few moments to sit on the bed, waiting for everything to sink in. A year ago, if someone was to ask her where she was going to college, she wouldn't have said New York. Back then, she knew that she would have been forced to attend whatever college the Harrisons told her to; whatever one she managed to get into. But here she was, ready to leave, and now New York seemed like the only logical place for her to be.

There was a light knock on the door, which Lizzy didn't acknowledge--she was so deep in thought that she didn't really notice it.

"Lizzy, sweet pea, we're getting ready to leave for the air--" Sadie stopped short in the doorway once she laid eyes on Lizzy, who was sitting on the edge of the bed looking very pensive. Sadie approached her cautiously and sat down next to her, sweeping the young girl's hair out of her face. The teenager leaned in to rest her head against the singer's shoulder, heaving a sigh. If she ever had any issues, Lizzy knew that one of the first people she would go to would be Sadie, and she was thankful that Sadie was the first one to find her right now.

"You okay, honey?"

Lizzy simply nodded.

"It's all right, you know, to be sad about this," Sadie told her. "It's always hard to leave the people and places you've grown so attached to. I know. It's difficult for everyone. Lord knows we all went through the same thing when you left us."

Lizzy stayed silent, letting Sadie's raspy singer's voice wash over her. She found it just as comforting as her mother's voice. She looked up at Sadie curiously, expecting her to say more about her departure from the family when she was two years old. Sadie caught sight of the look the teenager was giving her and sighed, running her long fingers through Lizzy's dark locks.

"It was so damn hard to see you go," she continued, "You were the first child born in our little family. We all practically helped raise you…but then times got rough and Lucy and Jude had no other choice."

Silence fell between them. Lizzy wished she remembered more of her time with her family when she was little; all she could recall were faint images and melodies of songs--things she'd subconsciously remembered in her dreams.

"It's good to get a fresh start once in awhile, sweet pea," Sadie suggested. "You'll like living in New York. I promise."

"I know I will," Lizzy agreed. "It's what I've wanted more than anything since I found everyone. But I never realized how hard it would be to leave here." She knew it would be difficult leaving Paul, but back when the idea first came up, she never imagined she'd have a tough time leaving the Harrisons and Florida behind. Her relationship with her adoptive parents had greatly improved since then.

"Think of it this way: you're leaving, but you'll always have this place to come back to. This will always be your home, too, I'm sure."

"Yeah…" Lizzy replied thoughtfully. Sadie was right. Just because she was leaving, didn't mean that she had to cut off all of her connections completely. She could always come back and visit from time to time.

Sadie waited a minute for Lizzy to compose herself before speaking. "Ready to go?"

Lizzy nodded, and the two of them stood. Sadie insisted on helping the teenager carry most of her luggage, since she was still wearing the cast on her wrist. They picked up her bags and exited the room, Lizzy glancing into it one last time before shutting the door.

* * *

_So, this is it…_ Lizzy thought, standing in the crowded airport among her family a half hour later, _I'm really leaving. _

She hadn't slept much at all last night; she'd been too busy thinking about what would happen today. She had spent the better half of the night tossing and turning, feeling both excited and anxious. And sad. It was okay to be sad, like Sadie had said. It was perfectly all right--she _was _leaving behind her best friend and the two people who had raised her for over fifteen years. She had every right to be upset about it.

Their plane was boarding in about five minutes, which gave Lizzy a chance to say her last few goodbyes. The rest of her family settled themselves in the plastic chairs in the waiting area near their terminal to give her some space; they knew it was going to be difficult for her. Only Lucy and Jude stayed with her, because they wanted to offer their thanks to the Harrisons and say their own goodbyes as well.

Lizzy readjusted the messenger bag slung over her shoulder and approached Mr. and Mrs. Harrison. Charlie was looking rather stoic, but on the inside, it hurt him to see his adoptive daughter of nearly sixteen years leave. He'd always been hard on the girl, especially in her teenage years, but that didn't mean he didn't love her. He'd loved her like his own, and always wanted to give her the best life possible. That's what he had promised Lucy and Jude when he and Maggie had taken her in. He guessed that now, what Lizzy needed was her real family. Charlie and his wife had gone on too long trying to hide her true heritage from her; it was a mistake that should've never been made. But he was trying to make up for that now by letting her go where she truly belonged.

Maggie Harrison, meanwhile, was in no way trying to hide her emotions from anyone. If her husband's hand hadn't been pressed against the small of her back for support, she would've been a crumpled, hysterical mess. She let out a sob every once in awhile, clutching her handkerchief tightly in one of her fists. It was hard to let the teenager--who'd once been the little girl she'd cared for like her own daughter--go, after she had watched her grow and become such an extraordinary woman. Maggie had no idea why she'd tried to repress Lizzy's talents in the past; she was an extremely gifted individual. Lucy and Jude were two very privileged people, to have the honor of calling her their child. Lizzy had been a blessing to Maggie, who had been unable to bear any children. Now, she was feeling the pain of sending her adoptive daughter off to live with her biological parents; a pain Lucy must have felt when she'd given Lizzy over to her and Charlie all those years ago.

Lizzy wrapped her arms around Charlie's waist, as he was quite tall. Peering up at him, she smiled. "Thank you," she told him, "for everything you've done." Charlie's vision blurred for a few moments; he blinked away the tears, trying not to let the teen see him get so…emotional.

"You're welcome," he said. "Let us know that you got to New York safely, all right?" Lizzy nodded, and Charlie ruffled her hair, leaning down to place a small kiss on her cheek. The eighteen-year-old then went up to Maggie, wrapping her arms around the woman's neck, holding her close.

"Thank you," she said, "I know this is hard for you. But…thanks for understanding that I need to do this." Maggie nodded, holding back tears. "I promise I'll try to visit sometime." She nodded and planted a kiss on the young girl's cheek before Lizzy pulled away to say her goodbye to Mrs. Rigby, who'd come to the airport with Paul to see her off.

Finally, it was time for Lizzy to do something she'd been dreading for months--say goodbye to Paul. She knew it wasn't a permanent goodbye. They both agreed to keep in touch through letters and a phone call once in awhile (long distance calls were a bit expensive). This definitely wouldn't be the last time they would see each other, either. There were longer breaks from school now that the two of them were in college, so they would have to plan to visit one another during the holidays. Then, when they finished college, who knew what their plans would be?

Paul shifted, uneasy, pulling his hands out of his pockets. "Guess this is it…"

Lizzy sighed, and then bit her bottom lip. "Yeah," She got up onto her toes to wrap her arms around Paul's neck. Paul put his arms around her waist and held her close. "I'll call you when I get home, okay?" Paul nodded, and kissed the top of her head. When she pulled away, he noticed a few tears falling down her face.

"Don't cry." he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I…I can't help it." she murmured back, voice shaking.

"Take care of yourself, Miss Lizzy," he said, brushing away her tears. He hesitantly added a quiet "Goodbye."

"For now." she affirmed.

Paul nodded again. "For now."

"C'mon, love, the plane's boarding." Jude said from behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Lizzy gave her best friend one final squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before joining her family to board. When they reached the entrance of the terminal, Lizzy waved to them one last time, and followed her family toward the plane.

* * *

**A/N: I know it's not much, but I really wanted Lizzy's departure from Florida to be in its own chapter. Please review!**


	34. A Day in the Life

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**A/N: I know the last chapter wasn't the best, but goodbyes are always difficult to write. This chapter will be better--it has some Max angst…**

"What'd ya think?" Jude asked, stepping back from the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He surveyed the painting that now hung there--Lizzy's painting--with a certain look of pride on his face, and turned to glance at his daughter and wife for their approval.

Lucy had been sitting in an easy chair with a cup of coffee in her hands watching Jude put up the painting for the past five minutes. It was one of the last things they had to get settled into the apartment, since everything else Lizzy had brought with her had been unpacked and set in their respective spots. "Looks perfect."

"What about you, Lizzy? You think it looks good here?"

Lizzy shrugged. "If you_ must_ have it in the center of the apartment, then yes." She hadn't been too keen on the idea of having her painting right on the wall above the mantle piece, only because she was very humble about her work. It had been hard enough having it put on display back at the art showcase in Florida. But, if her parents wanted there, then she guessed that she could appease them. Especially because Jude seemed so proud of it. Lizzy didn't blame him, really. It must've been cool to find out his long-lost daughter was artistically inclined, like he was. "It looks fine."

"Good." Jude said at last, finally pleased with the outcome. It was only right that the painting was placed as the center of their home, as it held so much meaning for all three of them. He was still thoroughly impressed with the painting, and made a mental note to talk to Lizzy about maybe sending in some work to the magazine he drew for; maybe they would give her a job, too.

Jude went over to Lucy, who stood so he could take a seat in the chair she had been occupying, which in turn gave her the chance to take up residence in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist, and planted a kiss in her sunlit tresses. Lucy giggled and set her cup of coffee on the table. She twisted around and proceeded to run her fingers in Jude's hair as he whispered to her, singing one of their favorite songs. He cherished moments like these, which had become all the more frequent since Lizzy had showed up in New York at Christmastime. Lucy was noticeably happier, which in turn made Jude happier. Things had finally gotten back to normal--to the way they should be.

Lizzy watched her parents, grinning. She didn't mind that her parents openly showed their affection toward each other on a daily basis. Coming from the Harrisons house, where they never kissed or anything of that sort in front of her, it was a refreshing change. It was great to know that after all these years--after so much had happened--Lucy and Jude's feelings for each other were just as strong as they had been when the two of them first fell in love.

The teenager went back to what she was doing, a notebook balanced on her knees as she sat on the couch, pen in hand. She was finishing off her letter to Paul. She hadn't written one yet, since they had just talked to each other the day she arrived, and he had sent his own letter last week. She'd been so busy getting unpacked and had gotten so sidetracked with other things that she hadn't had a chance to write back. Now that everything had settled down a bit, she made a note to write more frequently.

_Dear Paul,_

_I can't believe it's already been over two weeks since I left. How is everything back in Florida? Things are going great here. I've settled in, and I'm slowly adjusting to life in the Big Apple. I do have some good news: I got my cast off in the beginning of the week! That means you'll probably be getting more artwork from me. Ha ha. Oh, and JoJo's started teaching me to play guitar. He's giving me lessons twice a week. It's kinda hard. I can never get my fingers in the right positions and it's beginning to make my left wrist hurt. Oh well. I don't think I'll ever be as good as JoJo, anyway. I just thought it would be fun to pick up an instrument. _

_You have to keep me posted on life back in Florida. How's your mom? Tell her I said hi, okay? Miss you…_

_Your best friend forever,_

_Lizzy XO XO_

Lizzy folded up the letter, along with a pencil sketch she had done from memory of the two of them on the beach after Prom. She slid the two pieces of paper into the envelope that had already been addressed and had a stamp on it. Sighing, she sealed the envelope and set it on the coffee table. Lizzy was about to go get her sketchbook when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," she told Lucy and Jude, seeing as she was already halfway up. She grabbed the phone off the wall. "Hello? Feeny residence." It felt both wonderful and strange for her to say that.

"Lizzy. Just the girl I wanted to talk to."

"Hey, Aunt Val. What's up?"

"I don't want to, you know, be any trouble especially if you already have plans for the afternoon."

"I'm not doing anything," Lizzy told her. "What do you need?"

"Would you mind watching Max for an hour or two? I have some errands I need to run, and Michelle isn't home and your uncle isn't feeling well."

"I wouldn't mind."

"Oh, thank you so much, Lizzy. Would you be able to come over now?"

"Yeah," Lizzy replied. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Lizzy hung up the phone and went back to the living room, where her parents were still sitting together in the chair.

"I'm going over to watch Max for a few hours." she explained before picking up the letter she had written to Paul.

"Okay," Lucy smiled. "Keep him out of trouble."

"I will." Lizzy slid into her shoes and left the apartment, the letter in hand.

* * *

"Thank you so much for doing this, Lizzy. It's a big help," Valerie was saying as she and the teen stood in the middle of the living room of the Carrigan family's apartment. "I know the last thing you want to be doing on a Saturday is babysitting, but your uncle isn't up to keeping an eye on him, and little Max can be quite a handful when I drag him with me to run errands."

"It's not a problem." Lizzy answered, smirking at her little cousin, who was hunched over the coffee table, coloring.

"You won't have to worry about Michelle--she's at a friend's house. And I made lunch; it's in the fridge when the two of you get hungry."

"Thanks, Aunt Val."

"Max, be good for Lizzy, all right?" she asked her son, who nodded, eyes glued to his coloring page, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in determination. "Thanks again, Lizzy." Val called before heading toward the door.

"Oh, wait. I forgot to ask you," Lizzy called, following her aunt, "Can you mail this letter for me on your way out?"

"Of course." Valerie took the letter and tucked it inside her purse.

"Take your time; you don't have to rush home. We'll be okay." The teenager reassured her aunt, who thanked her again and left the apartment. Lizzy approached Max, taking a seat on the couch to watch him as he colored. He was working on a page in a jumbo-sized coloring book, trying his hardest to stay inside the lines. The box of crayons had been spilled out over the table, the empty box lying on the floor next to where he was kneeling.

"You like art, Max?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Me, too."

"You want to color?" he inquired, taking his eyes off the paper to look up at his older cousin.

"Sure."

Max took a moment to tear a page out of the book; a picture of a bunch of flowers with a sun in the sky and a butterfly hovering above them. Something girly, whereas the picture Max was coloring was _not_, obviously. The two of them colored, making idle conversations as they did so. It was interesting to talk to a six-year-old, especially one as rambunctious as little Max. Lizzy began to notice that there were many similarities between the little boy and his father. For instance, his short attention span. Once Max became bored of coloring, he decided he was hungry, so Lizzy heated up the macaroni and cheese that Valerie had left for them.

Max fell asleep in his room some time after he and Lizzy ate lunch, leaving the teen to sit alone in the living room. She'd cleaned up Max's coloring book and crayons, setting them in the middle of the table. She contemplated taking a nap herself, but decided against it, in case little Max woke up. She didn't want to run the risk of him causing any chaos if he was left momentarily unsupervised. Lizzy was about to turn on the TV when a door opened in the hallway, slamming against the wall loud enough to make her jump. She glanced in the direction of the abrupt noise, and saw her uncle staggering down the hall. He passed by the couch, not taking notice of her--he seemed to be in a daze--and walked into the kitchen. If what he was doing could actually be considered _walking_, that is. He couldn't move in a straight line without gripping something for support.

Lizzy watched as he reached up to one of the higher cabinets, pushing things aside to search for what he wanted. He moved quickly, furiously tearing through its contents, not caring whether items spilled out onto the counter or the floor. Finally, he pulled out a very large bottle of a honey-colored liquid, which Lizzy guessed to be some type of alcohol. She realized that he wasn't sick at all--he was drunk.

Max tugged off the cap of the bottle, put it to his lips, and started to gulp it down. He was mid-sip when he stopped and threw the half-full bottle into the sink, sputtering. He hissed in pain as one of the broken shards of glass flew up from the sink and sliced his hand; blood instantly oozed out and began dripping onto the floor. Max let out a miserable groan and turned around, leaning against the counter with his face in his hands. He slid to the floor, keeping his back against the lower cabinets, knees up to his chest.

Lizzy didn't know what to do about this. She realized now that what her aunt had said about her uncle 'not feeling well' had actually been code for 'he's having one of his bad days again'. Lizzy knew that Max was a Vietnam vet, and she wasn't ignorant about the psychological effects the soldiers felt for many years afterward, having discussed it extensively in her American History class.

The eighteen-year-old wasn't sure whether she should leave him be, or go ask him if he was okay or…_something_. She felt terrible for seeing her normally crazy, sarcastic Uncle Max in such a depressed state. Injured, no less. To be completely honest, it scared her a little. Maybe she was better off leaving him alone?

But she couldn't. Being a very sympathetic person, she couldn't just sit by and watch as her beloved uncle made a mess of himself. Not when he had done his best to comfort her once before--she felt the need to return the favor. Slowly, she got off the couch and tip-toed into the kitchen, avoiding any pieces of glass that might've fallen onto the tiles. She took a seat beside Max, her knees drawn to her chest as well. Lizzy silently waited a minute or two, watching as her uncle kept his face in his hands, his head bent down to stare at the floor.

"Uncle Max?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. Reluctantly, Max glanced sideways to stare into the innocent, blue eyes of his teenage niece. He'd spotted her out of the corner of his eye when he had started drinking, and that's what had made him stop. She didn't need to see him like this…so out of control, so broken.

"Shit," he cursed, his voice sounding uncharacteristically weak. Then again, to Lizzy, a lot of things about this situation seemed out of character for Max. "I'm sorry, Lizzy. I didn' know you were here." There was a strong odor of alcohol on his breath, and some of his words came out slurred, but Lizzy was able to make out what he was saying.

"You don't have to apologize."

"Look at me," He managed a sarcastic laugh, gesturing to himself, "I'm all fucked up…started drinkin' again…_shit_."

_What do I _say_? _Lizzy thought, mentally kicking herself. She was at a loss. She never expected to come here with the intention of watching her cousin, only to be taking care of her uncle instead.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Lizzy suggested. Hopefully, cleaning his injury would give him some time to sober up just a little. The teenager stood, and helped Max to his feet. He swayed a bit, so she steadied him and kept one arm tightly around his back as they made their way to the bathroom. Lizzy had a rough time with Max's weight supported on her because he was a lot taller than she was. Once they'd gotten safely to the bathroom, she told Max to sit on the closed toilet lid so she could look for the first aid kit. Most of the supplies were in the medicine cabinet, so she didn't have much trouble locating everything.

Lizzy pulled up a stool that was obviously used by little Max to reach the sink, and sat in front of her uncle, taking a gentle hold of his hand. The cut in his palm was rather large, but not too deep--she figured he probably wouldn't need stitches, but she couldn't be sure. She'd clean it up now and get a second opinion later by Valerie. The problem was that there was still a shard of glass in the wound, and Lizzy was by no means an expert at medical procedures of any sort. However, she did know that if the glass was left in, there was a good chance it would get infected.

She retrieved the pair of tweezers and glanced at Max cautiously. "Umm…this is gonna hurt, so…just warning you." Carefully, Lizzy used the tweezers to remove the glass from the cut, which she promptly threw into the trashcan nearby. Max visibly flinched, but didn't say a word. "Sorry."

"'S all right." Max answered. Lizzy then dampened a washcloth to wipe away the blood and stop more from flowing. Once she applied some anti-bacterial cream, she placed a band aid on top and secured some gauze around his palm for good measure, in case it started bleeding again. "Not bad." Max commented, inspecting the bandages while Lizzy put everything back and cleaned up.

They walked back toward the living room, Lizzy's arm held tightly around him again. She helped him to the couch, where they both took a seat. Lizzy wanted to make sure he was okay. She was surprised when he let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. Lizzy could tell that he'd sobered up some.

"Bet ya don't think too highly of me now," he said. And then, muttering mostly to himself, "Goddamn crazy Uncle Max…"

Lizzy looked at him, shocked. She was actually _angry _that he would say such a thing. "You're _not_ crazy, Uncle Max," The teenager said firmly. "You're a hero--you shouldn't put yourself down like that."

"_Hero_? Oh, that's a new one," he snorted. "I don't see anything heroic about this."

Lizzy forced his gaze to meets hers. "Lots of men are still going through this, too--don't think that you're alone. After all things you've seen and everything you've done, it's not uncommon. You went to _war_, Uncle Max, and that's not an easy thing, especially when you're forced into it. Not many people can go through all of that, much less come back alive. You're stronger than you think."

Max stayed quiet.

"And yeah, you're still having those rough days, but you've recovered, for the most part. You have a wife, a home, kids and family who love you…" Lizzy sighed. "You know my friend, Paul?"

"Yeah." Max replied, nodding.

"His father was a Vietnam vet," Lizzy explained. "and he walked out on Paul and his mother when Paul was little. He gave up when things got tough. But _you _didn't, because you're stronger than that. You _are_ a hero, Uncle Max. Not only to your country, but your family, too. Don't ever think otherwise."

Max, still shocked by his niece's lecture, leaned in to kiss her forehead. "And that's why _you_ are going to college." Lizzy laughed.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I think I'll be all right." Max answered.

"Just promise me something."

"Sure."

"No more alcohol to solve your problems."

Max pondered that for a long moment. If he had done it before, he could do it again. "Done."

"And if you're not having a good day, _talk _to someone," Lizzy advised. "I know that's a lot harder for guys to do such a thing, but it works _a lot _better than drowning your sorrows in liquor. I'm around, now, if you need me."

Max stared at Lizzy, surprised. She gave him a crooked smile. "What?"

"Nothing," Max shook his head. "I'm just trying to figure out how you grew up so fast. Who'd a' thought my own _niece _would be more mature than me?"

"I don't think anyone expected you to be that mature."

"Touché."

* * *

**A/N: Poor Max. I love writing heart-to-hearts with Max and Lizzy…lol. Please review!Although I don't have a true trivia question, I do have a question for you all: What is your favorite Beatles song? **


	35. A Taste Of Honey

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the Beatles or ATU.**

**A/N: It was interesting hearing everyone's favorite songs. I have many favorites, but Revolution has always been at the top of my list. **

**This chapter sets up a new part of the plot, so hopefully it'll be exciting for everyone. I'm looking forward to it…**

**Enjoy, and please review, especially if you have any suggestions! Thanks! **

* * *

The sound of an acoustic guitar filled the living area of Sadie and JoJo's apartment as Lizzy watched, astonished. JoJo's hands moved quickly, stringing together beautiful chords and rhythms, creating a song only he knew. She marveled at how swiftly his fingers glided along the neck of the guitar, forming complex notes without making any mistakes. She wondered if she'd ever learn to do such a thing. She doubted it, knowing that no one could be more skilled with a guitar than JoJo.

Watching him play was a spectacle to behold. He was completely focused, drowning out everything around him so that he seemed to be alone with his beloved instrument. Lizzy could easily compare it to the environment she and her father created for themselves while they were working on their art. JoJo had an intense expression of passion on his face, bobbing his head up and down in time with the music he shaped and molded into a song purely from his heart. Just as Lizzy used pencils or paint or charcoals as her mediums of expression, JoJo chose his guitar to do the same. It was like Lizzy was witnessing the musician tell her about his memories or feelings; the tempo or rhythms were used either to express sadness or joy, pain or triumph.

She hadn't really known all that much about the slightly mysterious musician before her weekly lessons with him. She knew that he was an amazing guitarist, and a kind, gracious man with a huge soft spot for Sadie and his children. Now, she knew that they were the same on at least some sort of level. Both were artists with different mediums of expression, and she felt proud to have that connection to him like a couple of her other family members.

JoJo ended the intricate song with a beautiful chord that hung in the air several seconds after the strings had been struck with a swipe of his hand. Lizzy only stared, open-mouthed, then glanced down at the acoustic that was sitting in her lap. It was a second-hand guitar that JoJo had purchased for her before the start of her lessons. Looking at it now, and her own fingers lying on the strings, she felt inadequate. She was _okay_ for a beginner, but she wasn't catching on as quickly as she'd originally hoped.

JoJo laughed, strumming the strings absentmindedly. Eleanor, who'd been listening from the couch, clapped lightly. She smirked at Lizzy. "It's all right, Lizzy," she reassured the stunned teenager, "You'll pick it up eventually."

"Easier said than done." the eighteen-year-old argued, although smiling.

"I think that's enough for today," JoJo said, chuckling again. He placed the guitar to the side so it was leaning against the back of the couch. "Just practice that new chord I taught you for next time, okay, Liz?"

"Yep," Lizzy replied. She knelt down on the floor to set the guitar into its worn-out case. Once she snapped the locks shut, she stood, picking up the case with her right hand. Almost instantaneously, it made her feel quite lopsided. She picked up her bag full of clothes and other assorted belongings--she and Michelle had had a sleepover with Eleanor last night--to even out the weight. "Thanks, JoJo."

"No problem."

Lizzy walked back to the apartment she shared with her parents, and was surprised to see that her mother was waiting eagerly for her when she stepped through the door. As she was putting the guitar and her bag away, Lucy approached her daughter with an envelope in her hand.

"A letter came in the mail for you yesterday…" she said in a singsong voice, brandishing the envelope and smiling brightly. Lizzy took it, and examining the front, immediately recognized Paul's handwriting.

"Thanks."

She ripped open the envelope, plopping down onto the couch. Her heart racing excitedly in her chest, she unfolded the piece of notebook paper that had been placed inside, and read Paul's latest letter.

_Miss Lizzy,_

_Everything's fine here. The weather's been really warm, which is good. I took a trip down to the beach last week…but it wasn't the same without you… _

_My mom started a new job; she got sick of being a waitress, plus the pay was shit so now she's working as a secretary at some local business…I forgot the name. She's actually been hanging out a lot with Mrs. Harrison, which is a little weird to get used to, especially because they're being all buddy-buddy with each other. Ah, well…it's a nice change, I guess. _

_I got a job, too, at that fancy-looking restaurant down the street from The Glass Onion. I'm busing tables for now but it's something, right? A job's a job. _

_Glad to here that life in NYC is good. I have to admit that I'm sort of jealous JoJo is giving you guitar lessons… _

_Thanks for the drawing, by the way. It's hanging up on the wall in my room, next to all the others. Did you draw that from memory? I don't remember taking pictures on the beach, so you must've. It's pretty cool that you got that photographic memory working for you. _

_I miss you, too…a lot._

_Your best friend for life,_

_Paul _

Lizzy discarded the envelope and re-folded the letter, tucking it carefully into her pocket. She told Lucy she was going to the art studio to do some work, to which Lucy informed her that Jude was working as well. She walked down the hall, following the music that was coming from the studio. Entering the room, she saw that Jude was standing in front of a large, half-finished painting--one that Lizzy couldn't quite figure out; sometimes, she found herself confused by her father's artwork--with his head tilted to the side. His clothes were stained with various colors of paint, some of the splotches were old, while others were fresh. He was barefoot, with cans and tubes of paint surrounding him, among several different sized brushes.

"'ello, Lizzy," he greeted, not taking his eyes off the canvas, "How was yer sleepover with the girls?"

"Fun."

"And yer lesson with Jo?"

"Overwhelming."

Jude laughed. "You'll get the hang of it. Learning a new skill takes time and practice," he stated. "and patience." He added, as an afterthought. Lizzy groaned inwardly, knowing that patience was not really one of her stronger qualities.

She let her father get back to work, and settled into her own space. Several minutes later, Lizzy was hunched over her desk, scribbling furiously at an almost completed penciled drawing (one she'd done a few days earlier) with an eraser. With a sweep of her hand, she sent the pinkish-gray eraser shavings tumbling to the hardwood floor beneath the desk, off the now slightly wrinkled sheet of paper. She groaned, chin in one palm, twirling the pencil with her other hand. This particular drawing had given her a lot of trouble when she'd first started it--there had been solid proof of that, from the pile of paper that had been crumpled into wads and thrown haphazardly onto the floor by her feet that day. She'd started on her fifteenth sheet when Jude told her it was wise _not_ to waste all of the expensive art paper.

The teen lifted her gaze from her now blank paper and stared out the window, looking at the view of the city. She let herself get lost in the sights, and the sound of music filling her ears from one of Jude's records that had been playing in the background. The record was from the sixties; some psychedelic rock band whose name Lizzy couldn't immediately recall. Lizzy put the pencil down and re-read the letter from Paul, trying to imagine his voice saying the words he had written. She hoped it would help with the drawing…

The teenager tried her hardest to picture her best friend in her mind's eye. She turned back to her attempt at drawing, and began to pencil in the lines again, trying to outline the familiar face she now saw in her head. Being the perfectionist artist that she was, Lizzy wasn't particularly happy with the outcome. It didn't do justice to the real thing--not even close. Usually, she had no problem with sketching from memory, but now she was having a lot of difficulty. With a sigh, she threw a cautious glance in Jude's direction, then crumpled the paper into a ball and let it drop to the floor. Quietly, she pulled out another sheet, vowing that it would be the last she used on this drawing. She wanted to get it _right_ this time.

Lizzy stared at the blank sheet, inspiration running low. She knew that no matter what she did, nothing would be good enough. Every time she pictured Paul's face, he always appeared to be sad. And she couldn't help but feel responsible for his sadness. He'd sounded slightly depressed in his letter--two phrases continued to stick out in Lizzy's mind:

…_I took a trip down to the beach last week…but it wasn't the same without you… _

…_I miss you, too…a lot._

Jude paused from painting to glance over at his daughter, who had a frown plastered on her face.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not feeling the creativity," the teen mumbled. It was sort of a lie, but she didn't want to alert him to Paul's problems. "Nothing's turning out the way I want it to."

Jude shrugged, knowing he couldn't exactly help his daughter out. He'd been in similar situations countless times, and from experience, he was aware that it sometimes took weeks for creativity to strike. "It happens."

"It's annoying." Lizzy grumbled.

Lizzy, too, was fully aware that Jude couldn't assist her in her lack of inspiration. She just had to, unfortunately, wait for her muse to come back. But who knew how long _that_ would take?

The teenager stared off into space again, letting her thoughts wander, drowning out her surroundings. She was in the midst of a daydream, imagining herself walking along a familiar beach, her toes in the warm sand, her fingers interlaced with Paul's…

A scene that was abruptly ended when Lizzy felt something cold and slightly sticky dripping down her back. Quickly, she turned around to find out what had happened to cause such a strange sensation, and discovered she had blue paint on her back. Raising an eyebrow, she looked at Jude, who held a brush covered in paint that was the same exact shade of blue. He was trying his hardest to contain his laughter, but he wasn't doing a very great job.

Lizzy didn't know whether she should've been angry or extremely amused by this.

"What the…?" she asked at last, her voice trailing off.

Jude could no longer hold in his laughter. Lizzy glared playfully, her bright blue eyes narrowed.

"You're _so_ lucky I don't care about these clothes."

"Threatening me, are you?" Jude taunted, a grin on his face. Lizzy smirked, picking up a brush. Swiftly, got up from the desk and dipped it into a can of green paint that was opened and lying on the floor near her father.

"Hey, you started it," she countered. "so I'm gonna finish it. It's only fair."

"Is that right?"

"Yep."

With that, Lizzy flung as much green paint at Jude as she could possibly get off the brush. It plastered the front of his shirt, and splattered on his face. This, in turn, started a paint war between the father-daughter pair. Jude and Lizzy threw varying colors of paint at each other (as well as many taunts and teasing comments) while they dashed around the studio trying to dodge each other's attacks. It was a good thing Jude and Lizzy had put away most of their artwork; otherwise, they would've been completely ruined. Speaking of which, their clothes were mostly covered in paint once ten minutes had passed. It was also on their faces in their hair--a mess that would be difficult to get out. Neither cared about such consequences. For the moment, they were having fun, and Lizzy's creative block was momentarily forgotten.

Paint coated the floor under their feet, and there were new splotches of it on the walls. Lizzy had kicked off her shoes, so now she and Jude were both barefoot--and sliding all over the place. The teenager slid into her father and tried to wrestle his paintbrush out of his hand, but that only caused paint to splash onto both of them the more they fought over it.

It was only a matter of time before one of them went down.

Jude fell first, slipping on the paint as he was trying to duck out of the way of the paint hurling toward him. He landed with a grunt on his back, his paintbrush clattering to the floor a foot away. Lizzy burst out laughing, peering down at her father's form sprawled out on the ground.

"You…okay?" she asked in between laughs.

"Ya think this is funny, do you?"

Lizzy nodded.

"We'll see if you're laughing after I drag you down with me…" Jude said dangerously, yet with a smirk on his face. The look of horror on Lizzy's features was absolutely priceless.

"What?" she asked, as if Jude's words weren't making sense fast enough. Jude grabbed her ankle, and _that's _when the threat finally sunk in. "_No_!"

But it was too late. Lizzy lost her balance and landed on top of Jude, belly-first. His plan back-fired on him, though, when his daughter collided with him, causing another painful grunt to escape his lips.

"Not feeling so smart _now_, are ya, Mr. Feeny?" Lizzy teased. She rolled off him, and decided to lay on her back. The paint under her squished and soaked her clothes even more.

"That was…_interesting_." Jude said.

"It was fun," Lizzy pressed her fingers into the paint, feeling it squish in between her fingers like a child. "Totally unproductive and a huge waste of paint, but fun."

"Yeah." Jude sighed.

"But…I think we destroyed your painting." Lizzy nodded her head in the direction of the easel he had been working at earlier.

Jude shrugged indifferently. "I didn' like it much, anyway."

Suddenly, the door to the art studio flung open and Lucy stood in the doorway, holding something in her hands. She stopped short once she saw the gigantic mess and her husband and daughter lying on the floor covered in a rainbow of paint. Lucy shifted the large envelope she had been holding in both of her hands to her left hand. She placed her right hand on her hip and shook her head.

"I'm not even going to ask."

Lucy didn't know if she could ever understand the minds of artists…

Jude pulled himself up off the floor and helped his daughter to her feet. Lucy cautiously took a few steps into the room, being especially careful of the large amount of paint that had been spilled on the floor. How they were going to clean _that _up, she didn't have the slightest idea…

"Come 'ere, love." Jude said, grinning mischievously. He proceeded to approach his wife, attempting to wrap his arms around her. Although she protested and tried to push him away, Lucy didn't succeed.

"Jude!" She scolded, half-laughing, "_Jude_! Don't!" She held the large envelope above her head, desperate not to get anything on it as Jude pulled her into a tight hug. When she tore herself away from him, the front of her clothes were covered in a thin layer of paint. "_Jude Feeny_…" Lucy glared at her husband, prepared to go on a tirade about how her clothes were probably ruined now. He only gave her an innocent look. He smiled that favorite smile of hers--the one that made her absolutely _melt_--and she found that she couldn't stay mad at him for very long.

"You were saying?" Jude asked, tugging her closer again.

Lizzy giggled.

Lucy pressed herself even closer to Jude, her lips meeting his. They broke the kiss a moment or two later, both of them breathless.

Jude smirked. "That's what I thought."

"What's in the envelope?" Lizzy inquired, hating to break up the cute moment between her parents. But her curiosity was getting the best of her.

"Mail from your grandmother across the Pond." Lucy declared. Jude raised an eyebrow, then he remembered what it was. So did Lizzy, whose eyes immediately grew wide with excitement. Lucy handed the envelope over to her daughter, and she tore it open in a frenzy. Peeking inside, she saw what appeared to be plane tickets--tickets to Liverpool, to visit Jude's mother. Also inside was a note from Martha, which Lizzy removed from the envelope to read, relaying the information to her parents.

"We better get packing," the teenager said cheerfully, "We leave the second week of July." It was the end of June, so that gave them a short amount of time to get ready, but they could pull it off. Lizzy's excitement outshined her thoughts about all they had to do before they left. She couldn't _believe _she was actually going to Liverpool…

* * *

**A/N: Please review! It's appreciated, as always!**


	36. Clarabella

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything…**

**A/N: This chapter is a little "check-in" of sorts on what Paul's up to back in Florida. (Thoughts are in italics…) In the next chapter, Lizzy, Jude and Lucy will be in Liverpool!**

**Also, please check out AllYouNeedIsLove3's new ATU fanfic, 'Paperback Writer'. He's always a faithful reader and reviewer of 'Dizzy Miss Lizzy', so please show him some love, too! I know ATU readers and writers are a supportive bunch of people, so that shouldn't be a problem…lol. **

**And now, onto chapter 36--Enjoy! Please review!**

* * *

Paul hadn't been expecting a letter from Lizzy so soon. Needless to say, he was surprised to find a letter addressed to him in her neat script in his apartment mailbox less than four days after he had sent his last message to her. It was a nice thing to find, especially mixed in with all of the bills and such, which his mother wouldn't be too happy to see, either. Although her new job paid better money than her other one did, it was still difficult sometimes to make ends meet. Paul had tried to convince his mother into taking the earnings from his job to help pay for the everyday living expenses, but she wouldn't hear of it. She knew he needed it to pay for tuition and any other fees that were necessary for his education at the community college he was going to attend in the fall.

If there was one thing that Mrs. Rigby wanted for her son that she _hadn't _had, it was a good education. He'd already surpassed her in that area, simply because he had finished high school--another thing she hadn't done. Paul had put up a big protest about going to college, much to his mother's displeasure. He had, of course, sent in the applications and got accepted to a few of them. However, once it was time to send in the deposit to his final choice--the one they could actually somewhat afford, with the financial aid they had received--he decided that maybe college wasn't the best path for him to be on.

"I can keep working, earn some money," Paul had argued. "I could always take a few classes later on…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Paul," his mother had replied, shaking her head, "You're going to school."

"You work too hard, Mom," Paul sighed. "I just want to help you out a bit."

Sally smiled, ruffling her son's hair. "That's very sweet of you, Paulie, but I work hard for a reason--to create the best life I can for you. You don't need to be worrying. Think about yourself for once."

"I don't know…"

"I want you to go _somewhere_, hon," Mrs. Rigby breathed, looking hopeful. "Be something great. I know you're capable of that; you're a smart kid."

Sally wanted her son to have great opportunities; a chance to get involved in a solid career and move above and beyond where he was now. She knew Paul was destined for bigger and better things--she didn't want him stuck here for the rest of his life, unhappy.

"Who knows," she had said, shrugging, "maybe you'll end up in New York someday."

Paul had let out an audible groan, then. "_Mom_." Why did she have to bring _that_ up? Just when he was finally getting used to the idea of Lizzy not being in Florida anymore…

Well, okay…maybe _not_.

But at least he'd gotten past the denial stage.

Entering the silent apartment he and his mother shared, Paul closed the door and walked into the kitchen. He tossed the junk mail--what _he_ considered to be junk, anyway--onto the counter and sunk down into a chair. He tore the envelope open, letting it drop to the floor carelessly by his feet.

The sight of Lizzy's familiar, neat and slightly curvy handwriting brought a smile to his face as he read.

_Dear Paul, _

_I had to get this letter to you ASAP, for two reasons. One, because I have so much to do that I probably won't have time to do it later…and two, because I'm extremely excited. Not even kidding…I'm practically bouncing off the walls I'm so happy. _

_Now that I've gotten all of the paint out of my hair--weird story; I'll tell you some other time--I can sit down to write this. _

_Remember how I told you awhile back that my grandmother, Martha Feeny, from Liverpool said that she was going to fly me and my parents over to visit her? Well, it looks like that's going to happen very soon. We just got a letter from her in the mail with the plane tickets, and we're going to be leaving the second week of July._

_Which is coming up really fast, so you can probably imagine how much stuff we have to do before we go. It's a good thing my passport hasn't expired yet from that trip I took with the Harrisons to Mexico two years ago… _

_We're going to be gone for about two weeks; we're gonna stay in my grandmother's house, obviously. Which is cool, because it's my dad's childhood home. My mom and I jokingly asked my dad if he would teach us some of the local slang--who knows, maybe I'll pick up a Liverpudlian accent? Haha. Probably not. I'll see if I can work on it…_

_Sorry if I'm rambling. But you know that's how I get when something this exciting happens to me. Anyway, once I find out my grandmother's address, I'll send you a postcard. And don't worry, I'll take plenty of pictures! My dad says there are good views on the coast, so you'll probably get some sketches, too. _

_Well, Paulie, now I have to go pack…not a task that I will enjoy, but whatever. _

_Miss you lots, _

_Lizzy XOXO_

_P.S.--Congrats on your new job, and tell your mom the same. Glad you liked the sketch--yes, surprisingly, I did that from memory. Cool, huh?_

Paul laughed, setting the piece of paper onto the kitchen table. He could almost hear Lizzy's voice, rambling about all of this very quickly, with that certain spark she got in her eyes whenever she was excited over something. He was happy for her, knowing that she was going to be doing something that she had been looking forward to for quite some time. And, it was her first vacation with her parents--something the three of them deserved. It was only fitting that they were going to travel to the country of Lizzy's father's birth. Maybe Lizzy would get the chance to learn more about her heritage as well. Paul knew how much she liked that kind of thing, too. So, _yes_, he was definitely happy for her…

Except…she was going to be even farther away now. It was only for two weeks, but _still_. He couldn't ignore the fact that Liverpool was a much further distance from Florida than New York was. Instead of being separated by a few states, she was going to be living across an entire ocean for fourteen days.

_Get a grip, _he told himself forcefully, _You're not dating anymore--she's not your girlfriend. What _difference_ does it make? Leave her be._

Paul shook his head, and stood. Lizzy was just going on vacation…that didn't matter. She wasn't going to be in the country for two weeks. So, what? It wasn't like he got to see her anyway. It shouldn't bother him.

Glancing at the clock, Paul decided that it was best to get ready for work. He had the late shift tonight--the dinnertime rush--and his boss wouldn't be happy with him if he was late. Plus, his mother had taken the car to work, and she wouldn't be back before he had to leave, so he didn't have any other choice but to ride his bike. He was pressed for time as it was; he had to hurry his ass up.

After freshening up a bit, Paul got into his work attire. It was a hideous ensemble, in his humble opinion--black dress pants, a white, button-up shirt, and a red bowtie. A _bowtie_, for crying out loud. Not to mention he had to tuck in his shirt, which was a chore he usually left until the last possible second. Once he was dressed, for whatever reason, he tucked Lizzy's letter into his back pocket for safekeeping before he left the apartment.

* * *

"You're cutting it pretty close, Rigby," Paul's manager, Mr. Mustard--_what the hell kind of name was _that_, anyway?_ Paul had thought--scolded as the teenager burst through the employee entrance, trying to tuck in his shirt. "Better not happen again."

"It won't sir, I promise." Paul muttered, as politely as he could manage. He couldn't help but feel impossibly small under his boss' gaze. He was a large man, with a cold demeanor and a less-than-friendly personality. He also hated his job, which indirectly contributed to everyone else hating _their _jobs.

Mr. Mustard glared, watching as one of his youngest employees finished tucking in his shirt and started straightening out his tie. He groaned. The kid was a good worker, but he usually got to the restaurant just moments before his shift began, and he always seemed in a rush. He didn't want to fire the kid, because truth be told, he did a lot more around this place than some of the others.

"Quit stallin' and get to _work_, Rigby." Mr. Mustard snapped.

Paul had barely enough time to mumble a "Yes, sir" before scrambling out into the dining hall to help clear off and re-set tables with the other two busboys. The job was tedious and repetitive, but the main motivation behind it was that he was earning money for each hour he worked. It was several dollars each hour that he hadn't had in his pocket before; he was surprised how quickly it added up.

Three hours had passed by the time Paul took a few moments to glance at a clock. The first rush of dinnertime customers had diminished. Mr. Mustard found him and grudgingly informed him that it was time for his first of two fifteen-minute breaks. Thoroughly overjoyed, the teenager all but bolted to the back room to sit down and relax. Immediately, he plopped into one of the folding chairs that was situated in the corner of the break room, the metal squeaking and groaning under his weight.

Paul leaned back, trying to get in a _comfortable_ position to take a fifteen-minute nap. It was a hard feat to accomplish, especially when he was sitting mostly upright in a very _uncomfortable_ chair. Nevertheless, he let his eyes close and prayed that he could at least drift off for a few minutes…

That request, unfortunately for Paul, fell upon deaf ears. As soon as his eyelids drooped, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and was met with the one person he least expected.

"Oh…hi, Clara," Blinking, he allowed the form of a young girl--his age--to come into focus. She was hovering over him, her hazel eyes locked on his own green. "I was trying to take a nap, but..." _That obviously isn't going to happen._ Paul didn't mind all that much, though--being interrupted by Clarabella wasn't so horrible.

"I noticed," Clarabella answered nonchalantly. "and you weren't having much luck with it, either."

Paul sat up straight, attempting to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes. Clarabella flipped her wavy, blond hair over one shoulder so that it was clear of her face and smiled. He knew what she was doing. It was the same thing she had been trying to do ever since he started working at this place. She probably didn't realize--or maybe she _did_--that he had seen her _checking him out _on a daily basis. Or, that Paul had noticed every little flirtatious thing she did around him. It was weird to think that someone like _her_ would want to get _his_ attention. It was also odd to have another girl staring at him _in that way _since he and Lizzy broke up and went back to being friends.

She was attractive, though. He had to give her that. It wasn't something he could really ignore, as hard as he tried. Clarabella was every guy's dream; tall and slender with blond hair, sparkling eyes, and--God help him for thinking this--a nice chest.

So, _why_ was he objecting to every one of her advances?

"Umm…what's up?" Paul asked sheepishly. _Wow, _that_ wasn't lame at all. _

Clarabella bit her lip. She stared at Paul, a smirk starting to form at the corner of her mouth. "You know, I was thinking…"

"Oh, God." Paul muttered, putting his face in his hands. Luckily, he said it quiet enough so that she wasn't able to catch it. _Here it __comes…_

"I know it's usually the guy who does this, but what the hell? I was wondering if you'd wanna go see a movie or something with me this weekend."

"I'd love to, Clara, I would…but I…can't."

"Why?"

"My mom she has this thing…and I need to…she needs me to…" Paul stumbled over his words, failing miserably at any attempt for an excuse. He wasn't going to find a way out of this. It wasn't like he didn't want to go on a date with Clara; there was just something holding him back…

Clarabella laughed. "You're a horrible liar, Paul."

Paul groaned.

"C'mon. Just…go out with me. Have a little fun. You look like you could use a night out."

"I told you, I can't."

"And you were lying," she reminded him matter-of-factly. "What's _really_ stopping you?"

Paul shrugged. "I dunno."

"You're single, right?"

Paul let his eyes drop to gaze at the floor. He had no idea why, but the piece of paper tucked into his back pocket felt like it had suddenly grown a lot heavier, taunting him and making him feel guilty. Guilty for also looking at Clarabella _in that way _and possibly contemplating something that was beyond co-worker status.

But _why_ was he feeling so bad about it? Like he had told himself earlier, he and Lizzy weren't together, so what was the hold-up? She wasn't his girlfriend--he was free to date any other girl he found worth dating.

"Yeah," Paul answered at last, "I'm single."

"Then what'd ya say?" Clarabella prompted, hopeful.

"What movie were you thinking about seeing?" he asked, forcing a smile onto his face.

"That's my boy." she smirked, elbowing him excitedly in the arm. He laughed nervously.

Somehow, with Lizzy going to Liverpool and being so far away from him, it made Paul feel even more guilty for going on a date with Clarabella…


	37. Rain

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews!!**

**I did quite a bit of research about Liverpool, so hopefully most of it is accurate. If not, I'm sorry--I've never been there, but I hope to travel there someday… I also took liberties with where exactly in Liverpool Jude lives, because they don't mention it in the movie. **

**Also, an FYI--I just started college, so please forgive me if the updates come sporadically until I can come up with a way to balance my work and writing. Hopefully, you all understand! **

* * *

Jude glanced to his left, and couldn't help but grin when he saw his daughter sleeping soundly beside him. The pillow the stewardess had given her a couple of hours ago was shoved in the corner to prop her head up, and she had placed Jude's old hat over her eyes to block out the light. Lizzy was curled up in her seat in what looked like the most uncomfortable of positions, and Jude couldn't figure out how she could possibly sleep like that. She must've been exhausted. He knew for a fact that she hadn't slept much the night before they departed, and for the first several hours, she'd been _way_ too excited about the trip to take a nap. Now, it seemed that the sleep deprivation had finally caught up to her.

On his right, Lucy was reading a novel by one of her favorite authors. Her deep cerulean eyes were glued to the pages of the book, which sat in her lap. Lucy's left hand was intertwined with Jude's, and she vaguely noticed the circles he was tracing on the back of her palm. However, she became increasingly aware of his presence as her husband began planting soft kisses along her neck and jaw line, his warm breath making her hair stand on end.

Lucy smiled, still trying to keep her focus on the book. "_Jude_." she whispered, half-laughing.

His mouth continued to hover over her neck. "Mmm…what, love?"

"I'm trying to read, _dear_." she giggled.

"I'm sorry," he replied with fake sincerity, kissing her neck again, "Am I distracting you?"

"Just a little."

"That's too bad," he answered, pushing the book closed. Even after eighteen-plus years of marriage, Lucy found that Jude's accent still had the ability to make her melt. She was incredibly thankful that it hadn't faded one bit since he'd decided to live in the States. "because I happen to find you incredibly distracting as well."

Jude pressed his lips to his wife's and they shared a passionate kiss. When they broke apart, Lucy could see out of the corner of her eye that a mother sitting directly across from them was shielding her young son's eyes from their public display of affection. Lucy smirked, knowing that under the circumstances--they _were_ on a plane, after all--she wouldn't have done it, but she couldn't be held accountable for her actions. It was Jude's fault. He just had that way of making her agree to anything. And she more or less loved him for that.

Lucy tucked the book away into her carry-on bag and held Jude's hand, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't know how we're going to thank your mother. I mean, I can't believe she did all of this."

"We'll think of something."

Lizzy suddenly stirred and sat upright, stretching. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, adjusting the hat on her head. She looked over at her parents, smiling.

"Sleep well?" Lucy asked her daughter.

Lizzy stretched again. "I'm kinda stiff…"

"I can't imagine why," Jude said sarcastically. "I couldn't figure out how you could sleep like that."

Lizzy just shrugged and gazed out the window of the plane, only to be met with the familiar and monotonous view of the sky. It was early afternoon. They had left New York's JFK airport at around six yesterday morning, and were due to arrive at the Liverpool airport at about two in the afternoon today after making two stops to change planes.

"Are we there yet?" Lizzy laughed.

"Almost, love," Jude said. "We have another hour to go."

An hour was not that long, really. To Lizzy, who was unbelievably anxious to arrive in Liverpool, it felt like ages.

* * *

"I had a great time, Paul." Clarabella stated, holding onto Paul's hand as they stood on the porch of her house. Like a gentleman, he had walked her to the front door once he had pulled into her driveway.

"Uh, me, too." Paul replied, scratching the back of the neck nervously with his free hand. The statement was true to an extent. They'd gone to dinner and seen a movie, and he did have a good time. Once he had gotten past all of the awkwardness, that is.

He hadn't been on a date since he and Lizzy had gone out together. So, when Clarabella tried to hold his hand repeatedly during the movie, he sort of panicked. At first, he'd attempted to shrug it off nonchalantly, but once she made the move for about the third time, he'd finally complied.

The movie-going experience with Clarabella differed a lot from the times Paul had gone with Lizzy. Clara stayed quiet for most of it, sneaking glimpses of him when she thought he wasn't paying attention, or sharing a smile with him (which he half-heartedly returned). He was somewhat thankful for this, considering he found himself unable to strike up a conversation with her.

Usually, Lizzy would mock-fight with him over the popcorn and whatever other junk they'd purchased. Then, the two of them would make stupid comments throughout the entire movie. He felt bad secretly comparing Clara to his ex-girlfriend, but he couldn't exactly help it. It wasn't like Clara was anything beyond a co-worker…well, yet. There was always that possibility…

Paul wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Clarabella laughed, brushing a piece of blond hair off her face. Paul didn't have that much time to react before she leaned in and placed her lips on his. He didn't know what to think about this, but he found himself kissing her back. The red flags went up in his mind and he felt like it was wrong to be doing something like this… Sure, Clarabella was a sweet girl, _but_…

_But, _what_? _he asked himself, fighting once again with his conscience.

…_but she's not Lizzy. _

Paul tried to break their kiss, but he wasn't able to stop himself. The truth of the matter was, he did like Clarabella on _some_ level, even if he couldn't admit that out loud.

_Of course she's not Lizzy! _his mind yelled at him, _You're _friends_ now--nothing more. It's okay to see other people… _

Finally, they parted, both avoiding each other's gaze. Paul cleared his throat. Clarabella squeezed Paul's hand with a slight smirk on her face.

"We should do this again sometime." she suggested, looking up to meet his bright green eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Paul agreed, albeit still hesitantly. "I'd like that."

"This would be the part where I'd say, 'I told you so', wouldn't it?" Clara asked, half-laughing. Paul stared at her, a bit puzzled. "For giving me a chance, I mean."

"Oh! Yeah, I guess so."

Clara bit her lip, then gave Paul a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she said, letting go of his hand. "Goodnight."

"'night."

Paul watched as Clara disappeared into her house. Then, he went back to his car and silently drove home. His mother was waiting for him in the living room of their apartment when he walked in. She turned down the volume of the television and glanced over at her son expectantly.

"So?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"What?" Paul questioned.

"How was your date?"

"Good."

Typical male: short on the details. His mother sighed. "You mind elaborating on that, Paul? Was she nice?"

"She seems like a nice girl. Polite and all…"

"Good to hear. Are you two going out again?"

"I think so," Paul said with a grin. "Why? Got a problem with it?"

"No, not at all. I think it's great that you're seeing someone."

* * *

Lizzy couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach once she and her parents stepped onto English soil for the first time. She could hardly believe that they were actually _here_. Like finding her parents, it seemed weird to know that it had just started out as an idea, and now it was _really _happening. They exited the Liverpool Airport and were immediately greeted by one of the things the United Kingdom was known for: rain.

And lots of it. It was practically pouring.

Lucy and Lizzy stayed underneath the shelter of the outside of the airport with their collective luggage gathered around them while Jude braved the weather to find transportation to Martha Feeny's house. Once he hailed a taxi, he graciously let his wife and daughter climb into the backseat while he and the driver stowed their suitcases and such into the trunk.

They took off from the airport, and Lizzy found herself curiously staring out the window at her new surroundings. It was strange to adjust to everything, because much of it was so different. For one thing, she forgot that the steering wheel was on the _right side _of the car instead of the left.

It was a bit of a drive to Martha's house, considering the airport was on the coast and they had to travel toward the city of Liverpool. Lizzy didn't mind--it gave her time to take everything in, and listen to her father tell her and her mother about the lay of the land.

What Lizzy picked up--in between glances out the window--was that the city of Liverpool was one of the five boroughs that made up Merseyside, the name of the actual county where all of this was located. Jude explained that Merseyside was divided into two parts by the Mersey River's estuary, and that most of the county was on the east side, where they would be staying. Jude's mother, who still occupied his childhood home, lived in the suburb of Allerton, which was just outside the city of Liverpool.

He also promised to take Lucy and Lizzy to Wirral Peninsula (via the famous Mersey Ferry), which was situated on the west side of said estuary. He said that he went there a lot to spend time on the beaches, and knew that Lizzy would like the opportunity to do some sketches of the coast.

As they entered the suburb of Allerton, Lizzy immediately noticed how different the neighborhoods were. The houses, made mostly out of brick, were all squished up against each other without any room in between. They were also incredibly narrow, tall, and similar in structure. Lizzy was very curious to see the inside of her grandmother's house because of the outward appearance of these homes.

The taxi pulled up in front of Martha Feeny's house--a quaint, unassuming brick home in the middle of Allerton Road--and by that time, the rain had mostly stopped. Jude, Lizzy, and Lucy exited the cab, taking their luggage, thanking the driver, and paying the fare. Once they picked up their respective suitcases, the three of them approached the front door. Jude knocked, and they waited. Lizzy felt the butterflies returning to her stomach, eager to really meet her grandmother for the first time…

* * *

**A/N: I know, a cliffy! But I wanted to post something because I hate keeping my faithful readers waiting. Please review! It's always appreciated!**


	38. Martha, My Dear

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize…**

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews!! You guys keep me writing!**

* * *

Martha Feeny was everything Lizzy had pictured her to be. She'd seen photos of her, of course--they were a bit outdated--but nothing compared to meeting her in person. She was everything Lizzy thought a proper grandma would look and act like. She had only been used to Maggie and Charlie's parents, and the Carrigans--neither experience had turned out to be a good one, either. So, as soon as the teenager laid eyes on her Liverpudlian grandmother, she couldn't help but feel incredibly welcomed.

Once she had seen her son, daughter-in-law, and long-lost granddaughter on her doorstep, Martha almost burst into tears she was so happy. She ushered them inside the front hall quickly, shutting the door to block out the chilly afternoon air.

Martha pulled her son into a tight embrace, kissing his forehead. "Judey, I'm so glad you're home!" Lizzy stifled her laughter when she noticed her father make a face at the little nickname his mother used. It was similar to the face Paul made whenever she addressed him as 'Paulie'…

Jude hugged his mother back, smiling. "It's good to be home, too, mum." he replied. Glancing around, he discovered that his childhood home hadn't changed all that much, besides maybe the updated furniture and a few new paint colors.

Martha shared a hug with Lucy next. "Lucy, dear, you look lovely, as always." She genuinely liked Lucy from the moment Jude described her on the phone late one night during his first trip to America. Martha had liked Jude's ex-girlfriend, Molly, to some degree, but with Lucy it was somewhat different. She noticed how truly happy Lucy had made her son, and any woman who could do that was okay in her book. In the months that followed Jude's deportation, Martha could see how lonely and depressed he was without her. When he finally decided to go back and make things right, Martha was overjoyed--and now that his family was all in one piece, she was ecstatic.

Lucy blushed at the compliment. "Thank you."

When Martha approached Lizzy, a few tears escaped from her warm, brown eyes. Her father's eyes, she noted. So much of Jude reflected this woman; she could easily detect the physical features they both shared. "Oh, Lizzy," she said, grinning, "you've grown into such a beautiful young woman…it's so good to see you again. I know you probably don't remember me. The last time I saw ya, you were just a little baby--and a cute baby, at that." she laughed.

"We have a lot to catch up on." Lizzy agreed, as her grandmother embraced her. She felt at ease immediately. It was a nice feeling. Although, Lizzy knew that feeling would cause her a lot of trouble when it was time to leave. But, she wouldn't worry about that now.

"No time like the present, right?" Martha asked.

"Right." The teenager nodded.

"Well, then, let's get you settled," Martha declared. "Jude, you and Lucy can take the guest bedroom down the hall, and I'll show Lizzy where she'll be stayin', in yer old room."

Jude obliged, and proceeded to take both Lucy and their luggage to the guest room. Meanwhile, Lizzy grabbed her belongings and followed her grandmother up the flight of stairs to the loft, where Jude's room was located. The layout of the house was strange; the house was really narrow, but deep, in that it went far back. It also seemed to have somewhat of a maze of hallways and rooms to make up for the lack of space--she made a mental note to check everything out when she got the chance.

Jude's room was small, with a bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser. The walls were painted a vibrant blue. Lizzy wondered whether it was painted blue because Jude was a boy, or because he actually liked the color. It made her wonder even more, then, if it was his favorite color, did he find it ironic that the woman he fell in love with and married had eyes that were almost the same shade? And a daughter who had inherited that trait?

Or maybe she was just over-analyzing things and letting her imagination get a hold of her thoughts.

"So, Lizzy, what do you think of yer graduation present?" Martha asked, fixing the sheets and pillows on the bed while Lizzy dropped her luggage onto the floor.

"I can't thank you enough, really. This is honestly one of the nicest things anyone's done for me."

"I think you'll enjoy it here," Martha mused. "There's plenty to do, as I'm sure yer father has told you. The coast, the city…and, there are some kids who live in this neighborhood that I think are around yer age."

"What about hearing embarrassing stories of my dad when he was a kid?" Lizzy asked, grinning mischievously. That was something she would definitely enjoy doing.

Martha returned the grin. "I'm sure we'll 'ave plenty of time for that," she responded. "As a matter of fact…" She opened up the top drawer of the desk, and pulled out a stack of papers, handing them over to her granddaughter. It wasn't anything embarrassing about Jude, but it did pertain to the period of time when he was raised in Liverpool. The papers were drawings, which progressed in complexity and skill. Each one was dated, with the most recent being the most detailed.

"Oh, wow," Lizzy said, flipping through all of them. She was amazed at how much his talent had developed over the years. Even from an early age, she could tell that the talent was always there. "This is cool…that you kept all of these like this. It's interesting to look through."

"Whenever Jude got the chance, he would come up here and started drawing for hours at a time, if he could," Martha recalled. "It's a shame he couldn't go to school for it."

"He turned out to be an amazing artist either way," Lizzy pointed out. "Everyone loves his work back in New York."

Martha chuckled to herself. The compassion she heard in her granddaughter's voice almost mirrored Lucy's tone. "I can see it now," she said, "yer so much like yer parents, Lizzy."

"I get that a lot nowadays."

"They're good people," Martha declared, and Lizzy nodded in agreement. "It's funny…to see that they are just as in love as they were in the sixties. You're mum makes my son so happy, Lizzy, and when he went back to America, I knew everything was goin' to be all right." Lizzy smiled, remembering the story of her parents' reunion on the top of the studio in the middle of New York City.

"One day, Lizzy, yer going to meet someone who makes _you _that happy."

"It would be nice."

"It'll happen," Martha reassured her. "and when it does, you'll know."

This made Lizzy a little bit curious.

"Did it…ever happen for you?" she asked. She knew her grandmother had never been married, but there had to be at least some guy who had swept her off her feet, in a way. Maybe it was her dad's biological father? Or someone else, perhaps?

Martha sighed, and took a seat on the bed. She patted the space of blanket beside her, inviting Lizzy to sit. Lizzy complied, interested to hear what her grandmother had to say. However, she could pick up on the sadness hidden in Martha's eyes, and almost regretted asking.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…"

"It's all right, dear. You asked, so I'll tell ya," Martha answered. "I loved Wes, but it wasn't at all like the love I had before I met him. I was maybe yer age, or a bit younger. His name was Jude--that's where yer father gets his namesake."

"_Really_?" Lizzy asked, intrigued.

Martha nodded and continued, "We were so in love, Lizzy. We would spend _hours _together. He was a real gentleman--always polite and respectful. My parents adored him. I was convinced that he would ask me to marry him…it was common, in those days, to get married at your age," Martha's eyes lit up as she relayed the story of her own experience with young love, and she felt as if she was a teenager again. "And then…for whatever reason--I do not remember why--we had a horrible fight. He walked away, and I didn't go after him. I never saw him after that. It makes me wonder where he is now…"

"And you named my dad after him…?"

"I suppose that wouldn't make too much sense to you," she laughed. "but the way I saw it, your father was a gift, and when he was born, I knew he would change my life and make it better. Jude was like that for me, too. Up until the fight, that is. But the times I spent with him were some of the best. I wouldn't trade me son for the world, though."

Jude had gone back to America after Lucy partly because of Martha's past experience. _She_ didn't go after what could've been her true love, but _he_ did. She reconciled her mistake vicariously through her son, knowing that he would've regretted it deeply if he hadn't gone back. Martha was pleased when it turned out all right--when Jude and Lucy got married, and gave her a grandchild.

"There's a lesson to be learned here, Lizzy," Martha said. "I'll tell ya the same thing I told yer father: if you find that someone, don't let them get away."

Lizzy couldn't ignore the icy pang of guilt that gripped her heart as Martha said those words.

* * *

The next day was spent lounging around the house, playing 'catch up' between Martha, Jude, Lucy and Lizzy. The three newcomers were quite jet-lagged, so they decided to set this day aside to do nothing in particular. They made good use of the time, however; talking and enjoying each other's company. Lizzy listened to stories from both Martha and Jude about memorable points in his childhood. She was surprised to learn that her father was quite the troublemaker when he was a boy, and had a slight rebellious streak as an adolescent. So, in summary, Lizzy's own rebellious nature hadn't entirely come from Max. (Obviously, Max wasn't her parent, but she had inherited some gene that they shared that caused this behavior. Which was then doubled by Jude's hidden defiance. At least, that was her logic…)

The following afternoon, Jude took Lucy and Lizzy on the Mersey Ferry to the Wirral Peninsula, while Martha stayed back at the house to prepare a large dinner. Luckily, they had chosen a slightly warmer and sunny day to go. Lizzy brought her sketchbook and charcoals along, excited to draw some of the views on the coast. There was a long stretch of beach, that went on for miles both ways. Near the shore, there was a pathway made out of large rocks; the water was shallow enough that people were able to walk easily across them. Situated a short distance away from that path of rocks, there was a large, white lighthouse.

The lighthouse was what Lizzy was sketching when her parents decided that they should venture out onto the rocks. Lizzy, being a person who was automatically drawn to any aspect of a beach, was all for it. She left her sketching things on the blanket they had brought to sit on the sand, and Jude led his wife and daughter off shore.

The teenager immediately felt at peace with the wind blowing through her hair and the smell of the sea surrounding her. She stood on the rocks with her eyes closed, listening to the waves crashing, the seagulls circling overhead, and her parents talking.

Jude was behind Lucy, with his arms around her waist. Her hands were on top of his, and she was leaning slightly into his chest. Both of their gazes were off in the distance, looking intently at the large expanse of water before them. Lucy felt oddly at home here, miles and miles away from their apartment in New York.

"When I came back to Liverpool after being deported," Jude's accented words cut through Lucy's thoughts, "I'd come to the Wirral all the time, and walk out here, or sit on the beach alone. I'd always be thinking of you."

Lucy giggled. "That's weird…I would always end up at the pier one way or another, and somehow, my thoughts were always about you, too."

With her eyes still closed, Lizzy smirked.

Yeah, Lucy and Jude's story had turned out all right.

But what about _her _story? A new chapter was just beginning, and she wasn't sure what adventures were ahead of her…

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked that chapter! Please review--it's greatly appreciated! Hopefully, I'll be able to update sooner… **


	39. Penny Lane

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize…**

**A/N: I know we haven't had trivia in awhile, and even though I don't have a question this time, I do have a non-trivia opinion question to ask you guys. I know all of us love the movie Across the Universe. My question is: would you pay to see a sequel? Or do you think it's okay to just have it end the way it did and be done with it? Just curious, because I was thinking about it the other day, wondering if it would be possible to start a petition or something to get a sequel made. Personally, I'd love to see more! **

Paul shuffled into the kitchen of the apartment, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes. He knew it was a little past twelve-thirty in the afternoon. To be completely honest, he could've slept for much longer. It felt good to have the day off from work, and to be able to sleep in a little. The late shifts were beginning to mess up his sleeping patterns. However, he didn't think it was a wise choice to spend his entire day off just sleeping--he had made plans, after all.

His mother was cleaning the kitchen when he entered. She stopped what she was doing and put her hands on her hips with a grin. "I didn't think you were ever going to get up today."

"Yeah, well, work's kicking my ass."

"Join the club," she retorted. "Hungry?"

He shook his head. "I'm going out to lunch with Clara."

"What time?"

Paul looked over at the clock on the wall. "Oh,_ shit_," he laughed, "She's going to be here in…ten minutes."

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, kid. Get moving…" she told him, shaking her head in disbelief. He got up from the table and was almost out of the room before she called after him. He turned around sharply.

"Yeah?"

She tossed him a thick envelope with all sorts of postage on it. "It came in the mail for you today," she said. "from all the way across the Pond."

Paul smiled. "Thanks."

He went into his room, closing the door. Paul got dressed and ready for his lunch with Clara, and had a few short minutes to spare. He didn't want to wait until after their date to read Lizzy's letter (that would be a form of torture, in his opinion), so he figured he would read through it now before Clarabella arrived. He opened the envelope, removing a folded piece of paper and a postcard. Turning the postcard over, Paul saw that the front of it had a picture of a beach. A distance away from the shore, there was a rocky path, and a white lighthouse loomed beyond that.

"Leave it to Lizzy to always find a beach." he mused aloud. He took the postcard and tacked it up onto one of his bulletin boards. Then, unfolding the piece of what he guessed was drawing paper from Lizzy's sketchpad, Paul read her letter.

_Dear Paul,_

_Quite simply, I think I am in love with Liverpool. Period. _

_I've been here almost a week and I've become attached. My grandma is so sweet…you would like her. She makes really good food. And, she's told me a lot of stories about my dad. My dad really hates it when she tells the embarrassing ones, but me and my mom get a kick out of it. _

_I visited the Wirral Peninsula a couple days ago, and I'm working on a sketch that I'll probably send to you soon. (I'm taking plenty of pictures, too!) My dad was right--the views on the coast were amazing. The beach there was similar to the one in Florida. We saw the lighthouse that's on the postcard I put in the envelope with this letter. I didn't write on it because there isn't enough room to tell you everything…but, I thought you'd like to see a picture of the lovely beach my dad took us to._

_The other day, we went to dinner in the city. It's not as crazy as New York, but it's busy enough. I liked listening to everyone's accents while we were sitting in the restaurant. Between my dad, grandma, and these kids I met in her neighborhood (they're not actually kids--they're around my age--you get what I mean), I might pick up a little of the accent after all. _

_They're pretty cool. We're going to the Cavern Club tonight. They said it's essential that I go there before I leave--this club's famous, I guess, and it's a really big deal to go there. So, I'm excited. It's one step toward making me an honorary 'Scouser', as Brian put it. If I remember correctly, it's the locals' term that they use to describe themselves…I'm learning a lot of the local slang…gotta practice somewhere…haha._

_I'll tell you all about my Cavern Club experience in my next letter!_

_You have to tell me how things are going in Florida, and what your summer vacation has been like! Tell your mom I said hi, okay? And pass along a hello to the Harrisons, too, if you see them. _

_Miss you…_

_Your best "mate", (See, I can sound Liverpudlian!) _

_Lizzy XOXO _

Paul smirked, shaking his head at his best friend's words. According to the date on the letter, Lizzy had been in Liverpool for a little over a week, now. He figured that it wouldn't be much longer until he received another one detailing her latest adventure at this club with these new acquaintances of hers. It sounded to him like she was having a good time--it didn't surprise him any that she had already become attached. She had a real connection to the place, so it was only natural that she would feel at home there.

Hopefully, she would have the willpower to go back to New York. He could barely tolerate her being several states up the coast--having a whole ocean between them was insane. He missed hearing her voice, and having those random conversations at odd hours on the phone. He couldn't wait to be able to pick up a phone and talk to her instantly, instead of relying on letters alone.

A knock on his bedroom door pulled Paul from his thoughts. "Uh…yeah?" he asked to whoever was knocking.

"Paul, it's Clara." came the soft voice on the other side of the door.

"Come on in."

The door opened and Clarabella walked in, smiling brightly. Her blond hair was put up in a bun and she was dressed nicely in a pair of Capri pants and a fitted blouse, ready for their lunch date together. She took a seat next to her boyfriend and kissed him on the lips; she noticed that he didn't return the kiss in the way he usually did. He seemed distracted. She found out why when she saw the piece of paper he held in his hands.

"What's that?" she asked sweetly, curious.

Paul finally looked up. "Oh, it's a letter from a friend of mine. She's on vacation in Liverpool visiting family."

Clarabella raised an eyebrow in interest. "A _friend_…?" She couldn't really ignore the fact that her boyfriend's supposed 'friend' was female.

Paul laughed. "She's my best friend. We've known each other since preschool."

She was still a bit skeptical about this whole situation, but decided not to ask anymore questions. There wasn't any need to be jealous of Paul's female best friend. She was just a girl he'd grown up with, and not anything more. It was normal, and Clara was perfectly okay with it…

Well, to _some_ degree, at least. Paul still had that distracted look in his eyes, which made her wonder whether he was telling her the God's honest truth about this 'friend'.

_You don't have any reason to be jealous_, she reassured herself, _Besides, you're probably prettier than her anyway. _

Clara encircled both of her arms around one of Paul's arms, and gave it a gentle tug. His eyes were once again glued to the sheet of paper, re-reading the letter. She leaned her head against the arm she held.

"_Paul_," she encouraged, laughing lightly, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah…yeah," he replied, sidetracked, "I'm ready." He set Lizzy's letter on his dresser and stood. He and his girlfriend walked out the door, Clarabella's arm hooked possessively in his.

* * *

**Liverpool, Several Days Earlier…**

"What'd ya think, Dad?" Lizzy asked, pushing her sketchbook across the kitchen table. Her hands were covered in charcoal from her latest drawing, which was now complete. Jude put down his cup of coffee and picked up the book, looking it over. He had taken Lizzy and Lucy to Wirral again yesterday, two days after their previous trip. There, Lizzy had insisted on sketching out a new drawing of him and Lucy standing on the rock pathway, holding hands, with the lighthouse in the background. In the drawing, it appeared as though they were walking together along the path, their gazes fixed on each other.

"Looks wonderful, love." he said with a proud smile. Lucy craned her neck to see her daughter's drawing from where she stood at the sink, helping Martha wash the dishes left over from their breakfast.

"I'm glad it was worth standing out there for two hours," Lucy laughed. "It wasn't exactly all that warm yesterday."

Lizzy threw her mother a look, feigning hurt. She knew her mother was only joking.

"Why, thank you," Lizzy answered, her tone sarcastic. "I could've taken a picture to save time, but I don't think it would've been the same."

"I'd have to agree." Jude said, as a knock on the back door made everyone look over.

"Jude, would you be a dear and get that for me?" Martha asked, wiping her hands clean of the soap suds. Lucy was beginning to put the dishes back in their rightful places.

"Sure, mum," Jude got up from the table and approached the back door. He unlocked it and tugged it open. He was immediately surprised by who he saw standing there. It was Molly, and her husband, Phil, his old friend whom he hadn't seen in what felt like ages. Behind them stood a young man with short, dark brown hair and light brown eyes; Jude guessed that he was their son. He had to be at least nineteen, now that he thought of it--he had never had the chance to meet their child. "Molly, Phil! Come in, come in." he said, ushering them inside the kitchen.

Jude shook Phil's hand, grinning. "How are ya, mate? It's been a long time…"

Phil returned the gesture. "Not too bad, thanks."

Jude then shared a slightly awkward hug with his ex-girlfriend, Molly. Once she let go of Jude, she placed a hand on the young man's arm. "This is our son, Stu." she introduced. He shook their son's hand.

"Nice to meet you." Stu said.

Lucy paused and walked over to stand at her husband's side, and Lizzy got up from her seat. Jude put his arm around Lucy's shoulder. "Molly, Phil, Stu…this is my wife, Lucy, and my daughter, Lizzy. Lucy, Lizzy, these are my friends Molly and Phil, and their son, Stu." There was an awkward exchange of handshakes, more so between Lucy and Molly, now that Molly was meeting "the reason" why Jude had stopped writing to her all those years ago. But that was in the past now, and she didn't really think anything of it.

"Martha had told us you and your family were coming, so we decided to come by and say hello," Molly explained. "and Stu here thought it would be a good idea to ask if he and his friends could show your daughter around."

Jude shared a glance with Lucy. Lucy smiled. "I'm sure Lizzy would like that," she said, looking at her daughter. "Right?"

Lizzy nodded, excitement evident in her face. A chance to be shown around Liverpool by kids her age? She wouldn't dream of passing that up. "Of course."

"You don't mind if I steal her away now?" Stu asked.

"Not at all." Jude replied. Lizzy left the room to get her hoodie and her messenger bag with her camera and sketching supplies, just in case. When she returned, Stu was standing by the back door, and Molly and Phil had joined Jude, Lucy, and Martha at the table.

"I'll have her back by dinner," Stu promised. Lizzy followed him out the door, and onto the cobblestone street behind the houses. As they walked toward the main road, he proceeded to tell her that they had to pick up his other friends, Pam and Brian, who were waiting for him at the corner. "How long are ya here for?"

"About another week."

"Ya like it so far?"

"I love it," Lizzy beamed. "My dad took me to the peninsula, and we visited the city…"

"I take it ya haven't been to the Cavern?"

Lizzy was puzzled. "Where?"

"The Cavern Club," Stu clarified. "It's one 'o the things Liverpool's known for."

"Oh…nope, I haven't been there."

"Good," Stu laughed. "We're goin' tomorrow night. Yer welcome to come along…" The corner of the street came into view, and Lizzy spotted the two teenagers, a girl and a boy. The girl had short, black hair and was wearing a bulky sweater over a casual dress. The boy--that she noted was quite good-looking--had spiky, copper-colored hair and was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a green army jacket over it. "Pam! Brian!" he called. Brian, who had one arm slung over Pam's shoulders, removed his arm to share some sort of handshake with Stu. "This is Lizzy, Martha Feeny's granddaughter."

"Hi." Lizzy said, giving a small wave. She, Brian and Pam introduced themselves to each other, exchanging informal greetings and shaking hands. They started walking down the street in a group, Stu and Pam leading the way, with Lizzy falling back to talk to Brian.

"Yer from the States, yeah? Where abouts?" Brian asked.

"I was born in New York City, but I was raised in Florida. Now I'm back in New York…it's kind of…_complicated_."

"Ahh, I see." Brian said, and decided to leave it at that.

"So, do you know exactly where we're going?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," He motioned to the sign above that labeled the street which intersected Allerton Road. _Penny Lane. _"A very famous street, mind you."

"Really?" Lizzy asked, interested. She and Brian fell into step beside Stu and Pam as they made their way down the narrow sidewalk of Penny Lane.

"_In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs_

_ Of ev'ry head he's had the pleasure to know. _

_And all the people that come and go _

_Stop and say 'Hello'…" _

Brian sang, waving to an older woman passing by, walking her dog. The old woman waved back, her dog barking excitedly at the teenagers. Suddenly, Pam's arm was around Lizzy's shoulders, as she continued to explain the atmosphere on this little road.

"_On the corner is a banker with a motorcar, _

_The little children laugh at him behind his back._

_ And the banker never wears a mac_

_ In the pouring rain--"_

"_Very strange_." Stu declared.

Pam, Brian and Stu all chimed in to this anthem, singing,

"_Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes, _

_There beneath the blue suburban skies _

_I sit, and meanwhile back…" _

"_In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass_

_ And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen," _

Stu carried on,

"_He likes to keep his fire engine clean, _

_It's a clean machine…" _

Lizzy watched the fireman in the garage of the firehouse washing the engine meticulously.

"_Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes, _

_A four of fish and finger pies_

_ In summer meanwhile back…"_

As they came to the roundabout, where Penny Lane intersected with the surrounding streets, Brian picked it up again.

"_Behind the shelter in the middle of the roundabout _

_The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray. _

_And though she feels as if she's in a play _

_She is anyway. _

_In Penny Lane, the barber shaves another customer, _

_We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim _

_And then the fireman rushes in From the pouring rain--"_

"_Very strange_." Lizzy supplied this time, giggling. Penny Lane was bustling with activity all around them as they sang, ending the anthem once they came toward the other side of the roundabout.

"_Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes, _

_There beneath the blue suburban skies _

_I sit, and meanwhile_

_Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes,_

_ There beneath the blue suburban skies... Penny Lane!" _

Lizzy smiled, taking one more glance at the quaint street before she was whisked away by the three teenagers, into a small coffee shop. They sat down at a table, as Brian asked her, "Are ya gonna come to the Cavern tomorrow night?"

"Most likely," she answered. "I'll have to check with my parents first."

"Ya should, it's always a good time," he said. "It'll help ya become an honorary Scouser."

Lizzy blinked, confused again. "A _what_?"

Brian chuckled. "I suppose it's time we taught ya a bit 'o the slang 'round here."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked it! I know, it's crazy that I've updated so quickly…consider it as an apology for not updating in awhile. Next chapter, Lizzy goes to the Cavern. **

**Oh, and an interesting fact: Martha Feeny's street, Allerton Road, does actually intersect with THE Penny Lane. I researched it! **


	40. I Saw Her Standing There

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. **

**A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! This has been my most successful story so far! You guys rock! **

**Don't worry, the story's not over yet! This chapter is sort of a flashback, telling what happened after Lizzy's letter was written. **

**A couple days earlier… **

Lizzy paced back and forth across the small space of floor in Jude's old bedroom, biting the nail on her index finger anxiously. Her brow was knit in indecision, as she cast periodic glances at the bed. The contents of her suitcase had been scattered all over the comforter, put together in a variety of outfits. Everything from jeans and T-shirts to skirts and casual dresses. She had packed an array of styles, not knowing what exactly she would want to wear each day--or what the weather would be like.

Stu, Pam and Brian were picking her up in an less than an hour, and she had not yet made a decision._ What does one where to this Cavern Club?_ she asked herself. Lizzy had been to clubs before, and most of them were like The Glass Onion where the patrons were dressed casually. She figured the Cavern was the same, from the description she'd been given. Brian had told her it was a rock 'n' roll club, so she thought jeans and a T-shirt or something would be okay.

But then she thought it would be weird if she just threw on anything--without putting any thought into it--for her first official outing with her new…_friends_? She didn't know if they qualified as friends just yet…maybe acquaintances? Either way, she wanted to look _nice_. Maybe it was because she wanted to make a good impression.

Or, maybe it was partly because she kind of wanted to look good in front of Brian.

Shame on her for thinking that, but her female hormones couldn't deny how attractive he was. Besides, she was single. What could it hurt?

_Paul_, was her immediate thought.

She shook her head, actively wrestling with her own thoughts. No, Paul wouldn't be angry or upset over this. They weren't dating anymore. If she told Paul right now that she had met someone, he would probably shake his head, saying, _"Leave it to you to fall for a British guy.", _or something like that.

Paul would be okay with it. He would. She was sure.

The real question at hand was the one she was really denying herself: was _she_ going to be okay with it?

_Of course I am_, she thought, _I'm single, and it's just a crush. It'll be a little vacation fling and nothing more. It's not like I can get attached. _

It wasn't her fault that Brian had been flirting back yesterday afternoon, in that gorgeous accent of his. Sometimes, it was hard to even understand what the hell he was saying, but he could talk for hours and Lizzy would listen. Why did she find his foreign dialect so appealing? She had no clue. Maybe she was more like her mother than she'd originally thought.

Thinking of Brian rambling in his accented voice made her grin. Yesterday, as the two of them, Stu, and Pam had been sitting in the coffee shop--the latter two had been in line waiting to order something--he had told her who exactly a Scouser was. He said a Scouser was another name for a native of Liverpool, and it could also be used to describe their dialect. It had originally come from a local food of some kind called scouse. Then, he proceeded to help teach her some of the lingo--random, pointless phrases and words, but nevertheless, it was slang.

"I figure, as long as yer _half_ Scouser, you'll be able to pick it up quickly. I won't be teachin' ya none of the really vulgar stuff, though," he had said. "Now, 'round 'ere, we 'ave a lot of names fer you Yankees. No offense or anything."

"None taken." Lizzy had said.

"'Round 'ere, we'd call ya a corksucker."

Lizzy's eyes grew wide. "_Excuse me_?"

Brian enjoyed getting a good laugh out of her reaction--a reaction he'd probably intended to cause. "All right, let's try something else."

"Okay."

"Say ya wanna tell someone to 'shut up'," he chuckled again, "You'd say, purra a zipper on it."

Lizzy tilted her head to the side. "Pur a zipper on it? You sound like a cat…purr…a…zipp--"

"Ya have to say it with an accent, Lizzy, 'else it don't sound right." He was clearly amused.

"I can't."

"'Course ya can," Brian assured her. "'aven't ya listened to yer grandmother at all? Try 'n copy her."

Lizzy thought about it for a second, trying to think of both her grandma's and her father's accents.

"I'm waitin'…yer not gonna pass the test…maybe yer not worthy 'o bein' an honorary Scouser after--"

He was rambling again, and this time on purpose, just so she could stick that bit of new vocabulary in.

"Oh, purr a zipper on it, ya 'ardfaced git!" she laughed, unable to keep a straight face. A look of surprise passed over Brian's features, and he clapped.

"Bravo," he said, smirking. "The last part was a nice touch. Where'd ya learn that one?"

She shrugged. "The city."

"Very nice," he replied. Then, he leaned in closer, across the table, looking somewhat serious. "Now, 'ere's yer challenge: listen to yer family some more, and I order ya to talk like a Scouser tomorrow night at the Cavern."

"The _whole _night?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded. "The whole night."

Lizzy remembered the challenge Brian had given her, and had every intention of following through with it. Prior to her current clothes dilemma, she had been practicing her Liverpudlian dialect. She had even practiced speaking with it during dinner, making both her parents and her grandmother laugh. Jude had given her a few pointers, too. She didn't sound that bad, really--at least _she_ didn't think so. She liked to think that she had improved greatly from yesterday afternoon. Lucy had even said that she kind of sounded like Jude, which was actually amusing. Lizzy wondered, briefly, if she spoke like this long enough, she would automatically forget to use her American accent. What if, the next time she picked up the phone and called Paul, he heard her talking like a Scouser? He would get a kick out of that, for sure.

_See, Paul. You let me go to Liverpool for two weeks and this is what happens. _

Lizzy was debating with the idea. If she didn't want to pick it up permanently, then she decided that she would let the accent slip through every once and awhile--just for fun. She could just _hear_ herself mock-arguing with her father, her voice matching his, in the middle of their New York City apartment.

Tearing herself from her musings over everything but the task at hand, Lizzy stopped pacing and approached the bed. Finally, she chose a nice skirt and her favorite tunic-like top to wear with Converse sneakers. She knew they would be dancing, so she wanted to be comfortable. She also decided to wear Jude's hat--if Brian wanted her to talk like a Liverpudlian, then she wanted to try and dress like one, too.

After dressing herself, Lizzy dug out a mirror from her bag and put on some makeup. Not a lot; it was subtle, and it looked good. She didn't want to make it seem as though she was trying very hard to impress Brian, because she really wasn't…or at least she didn't think so. She _was _going out, so she wanted to add a little something else.

Once she was sure that she was ready, Lizzy bounded down the steps and into the living room where her parents and grandmother sat. She stood in front of them and twirled around in a circle, her arms out at her sides and she skirt billowing in the air.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Wonderful, dear." Martha beamed. Jude slung his arm around Lucy's shoulders and smirked at his teenage daughter.

"I remember goin' to the Cavern," he told her nostalgically. "It's quite a place. Good music, dancing…I 'aven't been there since I dated Molly, though…" Lucy threw him a look, feeling uncomfortable about her husband mentioning an old flame--one she had met yesterday. "Do ya wanna go, Luce? Bet it'd be more fun goin' with you." Jude tried, trying to lessen the awkward statement he'd made in front of his wife. She smiled, leaning on his shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sure it would," she giggled, "but I think Lizzy would appreciate it if we weren't in the same place while she's on her date. You know, so we can't spy on her."

Lizzy put her hands on her hips. "It's not a date. I'm just going with a small group of…acquaintances. That's all."

"Mm-hmm. Is that so? It looked to me like you fancied that one boy…what was his name…?"

"Brian." Lizzy said quickly.

"Ah, see? You _do_--"

"Let her be, Jude." Martha laughed, coming to her granddaughter's aid. She noticed that Lizzy's cheeks had turned a slight shade of pink talking about the young man.

A car honked outside, and Lizzy knew that it was Stu, Pam and Brian. "That's them--I gotta go."

Jude stood, and escorted his daughter to the front door. "Be careful, now, Lizzy," he said. "It gets pretty crowded at the Cavern."

"This isn't my first time going to a club, Dad."

"This is different, love. You'll see."

Lizzy got on her tiptoes to give Jude a kiss on the cheek. "See ya later." she said, switching to her newly-acquired Liverpudlian accent.

Jude chuckled. "Have a good time."

Lizzy walked to the car, and slid into the backseat next to Pam. Stu was driving, and Brian was sitting in the passenger's seat. "'ello, 'ello." she said. Brian smiled.

"Takin' the challenge, are ya?" he asked.

"'course I am."

Stu took off, heading into the city of Liverpool, to Matthew Street where the Cavern Club was located. They made small talk during the ride, Lizzy feeling more and more comfortable with her new accent. It was fun, she noted, and she was able to stick a few common phrases into their conversation, blending in with the others easily. When they arrived, Stu parked down the street from the club and they walked, approaching the building with the red neon sign hanging over its entrance. Pam, Brian and Stu pooled their money, paying for Lizzy as well. As they went downstairs, Lizzy was already finding herself enjoying the atmosphere. She could hear the band's music starting up.

"We're taking ya back to the sixties tonight…" the singer proclaimed.

Lizzy was surprised about how much the Cavern Club actually lived up to its name. The room really looked cavernous, with its lack of lighting, arched ceiling and different entrances and exits on each side of the space that were also arched. It was made entirely out of brick; the room was narrow, but long in length. On the other side was the stage, against the back wall which was cluttered with what looked like posters.

And there were people _everywhere_.

She'd thought the Glass Onion had been packed, but this place was nothing compared to that. She figured that since the large room was quite narrow, that there wasn't anywhere anyone could go, which was why the patrons were standing or dancing so close together. Speaking of the dancing…Lizzy had seen some pretty provocative moves in the club in Florida, but her father had been right--this _was_ different. Much different. The patrons--mostly the younger generation; people in their late teens to early twenties--were all on top of each other. It wasn't as raunchy as the dancing in the American clubs could get. It wasn't revolting…it was passionate and sensual. Like their actions were driven by both the rhythm of the music and the possible chemistry between the couples that happened to be paired up. For Lizzy, the sight was kind of a culture shock.

"What'd ya think?" Pam asked over the music.

"'S…different." Lizzy laughed.

"Yer gonna 'ave fun. Trust me." She took hold of Stu's arm and dragged him into the crowd of people. Lizzy stood by the wall off to the side, watching everyone, trying to figure out where Brian went. A new, fast and upbeat song began while Lizzy looked around.

_Well she was just seventeen _

_You know what I mean_

_ And the way she looked_

_ Was way beyond compare _

_So how could I dance with another, _

_Oh, when I saw her standing there _

Finally, she caught his eye as he emerged from the crowd on the other side of the room. He appeared to be searching the mob of people as well--her stomach flip-flopped, wondering if _she_ was the person he was looking for.

…_Well she looked at me_

_ And I, I could see _

_That before too long _

_I'd fall in love with her _

_She wouldn't dance with another _

_Oh, when I saw her standing there_

He smiled and quickly made his way through a small clearing in the mass of people to get to her.

_Well my heart went boom _

_When I crossed that room_

_ And I held her hand in mine _

Brian grinned again. "Wanna dance?" he asked.

"I'd fancy that." she replied. Brian took her hand and led her into the crowd. She stood with a small space in between them, gawking at the people dancing around them, unsure of what to do. Brian chuckled, shaking his head.

"Lemme show ya how we dance 'ere." He took her hands and wrapped them around his neck. He pulled her to him, eliminating the space that had been between them before. They moved back and forth to the pace of the song, one of Brian's hands on the small of Lizzy's back. She was kind of reluctant about being pressed up against Brian in such a cramped area, but then again, she wasn't really complaining about it, either.

_Oh we danced through the night _

_And we held each other tight _

_And before too long I fell in love with her_

_ Now I'll never dance with another _

_Oh, when I saw her standing there _

"Ya sound quite lovely with that accent, ya know." Brian said, referring to the conversation in the car and her statement when she had accepted his invitation to dance.

"Yer not too bad yerself."

She was flirting again, but she couldn't help it, especially with the look he was giving her. She tightened her hold on him and moved closer, which was barely even possible.

_Well my heart went boom _

_When I crossed that room _

_And I held her hand in mine _

_Oh we danced through the night_

_ And we held each other tight _

_And before too long I fell in love with her _

_Now I'll never dance with another _

_Oh, when I saw her standing there _

_Oh, since I saw her standing there _

_Yeah, well since I saw her standing there_

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, and they shared a small kiss. Feeling hesitant--Lizzy hadn't had the opportunity to kiss someone of the opposite sex who happened to be her age since Paul--she broke it, looking up at Brian. She thought about it for a moment, telling herself that she wouldn't get attached. It was just a little summer romance, and it would end before she left Liverpool. Lizzy's pressed her lips to Brian's, and shared a kiss that was more passionate than the one before. Another song started up, and they continued dancing together through the night…


	41. Think For Yourself

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize! **

**A/N: Once again, thank you for reading and reviewing! This chapter takes place in present time. **

Paul looked up from the latest letter from Lizzy--in which she had told him that she would be home soon, and to therefore expect a call from her--when the weight on his bed suddenly shifted. Clarabella had gotten up from her spot, probably tired of watching him reading through his mail. He knew it was most likely rude, so he tucked the piece of paper into his jeans pocket and glanced over at his girlfriend. Clara stood in front of his bulletin board, studying the collection of drawings that were displayed there and on the surrounding wall. Some were pencil drawings, others done with charcoal, oil pastels or paint.

Clara smirked, tucking a strand of loose, blond hair behind her ear. She turned on her heel to face her boyfriend. "Paul, I didn't know you were an artist. I'm impressed."

"Thanks, but I'm not the artist responsible," he chuckled. "Those weren't done by me."

"Oh…then who?"

"Lizzy."

Clara resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"She's been drawing since I've known her," he said. "She's really good."

"So I see," Clara answered. "Is there anything this girl can't do?" She laughed somewhat, but there was an edge to her tone. Clara had told herself that she didn't have any reason to be jealous of Lizzy, but it was kind of hard to convince herself of that fact when her boyfriend kept mentioning her every now and then.

Paul shrugged her question off, and watched as Clara came across a picture sitting on his desk. She picked it up and held it in the air toward him. "Is this her?"

He nodded. "That picture's about two years old now." It had been taken on one of their many beach adventures. The photo was a close-up shot of Lizzy, showing just her head and most of her shoulders, with the water in the background. Clara scrutinized it, finding that she had been right to feel slightly jealous. To her utter dismay, she saw that Lizzy was, in fact, quite pretty. She would simply have to take Paul's word for it and believe that nothing beyond friendship had gone on between them. Although his word was pretty hard to believe sometimes when he brought up his supposed 'best friend'.

She placed the picture on the desk where it belonged, and joined her boyfriend on his bed. He was sitting with his back against the wall, his legs dangling over the side. Clarabella climbed into his lap and sat there, smiling up at him. He returned the grin, wrapping an arm around her waist as his lips pressed against hers. He deepened their kiss, his fingers running softly through her hair. She broke the kiss for a brief moment to smile at him again, giggling, "_Paulie_…"

Paul pulled himself away from her, taken aback by the term of endearment she'd used. The surprised--or whatever emotion was on his face at that time, she wasn't exactly sure--expression he displayed registered in Clara's mind and she stopped.

"What is it?"

He shook his head hoping she'd let it go, and averted his gaze. "Nothing." he lied. But Clara wasn't entirely satisfied with that answer. That look still lingered on her boyfriend's face, and she knew something was up. He was a terrible liar. She figured it was something she'd said, but all she had done was call him by a nickname. There wasn't any harm in that, was there? She forced him to turn his gaze back to her, using her hand to push his chin up.

"What did I say wrong?" she asked, both concerned and quite puzzled.

He tried brush it off. "Don't worry about it." Paul wondered why this had struck such a chord in him.

"Tell me."

He sighed. "You called me 'Paulie'."

Clarabella tilted her head to the side, giving him an equally lopsided grin. "Is _that _all? What, do you not like it?"

He hated the nickname, it was true. But for some weird reason unknown to even himself, Paul tolerated being called 'Paulie' by only two people on this planet. One of them being his mother. The other was Lizzy. He had always scolded his best friend for calling him that, but the truth of the matter was, he didn't really care. She'd been calling him 'Paulie' ever since they were kids, and he could only put up with it coming from Lizzy's mouth because when she addressed him as such, it sounded…well, _cute_. For lack of a better word. When she'd shouted this nickname through the halls after school, her blue eyes were always bright and wide with excitement, and he guessed, to him, it had made her that much more…adorable.

"Paul?" Clara asked for about the fifth time, finally snapping her fingers in front of her boyfriend's face. He had yet to respond to her latest inquiry; he'd kind of gone off into a trance-like state, like his mind had wandered away.

"Huh? Yeah?" he asked, blinking.

"I won't call you 'Paulie' again, if you hate it that much."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Deal," she replied, grinning once more. "Now, where were we?" Her lips found his again, drawing him into another heated kiss. They shared it for a few moments before she leaned back to lay on the bed, dragging him down with her by the front of his T-shirt. Paul, although startled, complied and continued kissing Clara. He felt her arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer. Then, she started tugging at the end of his T-shirt in an effort to remove it. With red flags suddenly going up in his mind despite the desire he felt in living in the moment, Paul quickly pushed Clara's hands away.

"Clara…" Paul said, his breathing uneven, "Stop."

Clara, who was clearly upset at being denied, paused and disengaged from their kiss.

"What did I do this time?" she questioned. "I thought--"

Paul cut her off. "Listen, it just…wouldn't be right."

"It seemed pretty _all right _to you a moment ago." she pointed out.

"We've only been dating for a few weeks. Don't you think this would be rushing things a bit?" He moved to sit beside her, and she sat up, still visibly disappointed.

"You're so old-fashioned, Paul." she laughed. This surprised him, that she was mocking him for trying to take things slow, and not rushing into this.

"What's so wrong with that?"

She shook her head, answering sarcastically, "_Nothing_."

"Okay, then."

"Want to watch a movie?" Clara asked, changing subjects. She hopped off the bed without awaiting her boyfriend's reply and knelt on the floor in front of Paul's extensive movie collection. Paul didn't answer anyway; he watched Clara skimming through his numerous VHS tapes and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He hated to think about what would've happened if he hadn't stopped himself and Clara, and if part of him would've felt guilty afterward.

* * *

Lizzy couldn't believe she and her parents were supposed to leave Liverpool tomorrow. She knew she would miss it, and that the goodbye would most likely be filled with tears, but she didn't want to dwell on that too much right now. She was sitting on the couch in the living room of Brian's house with her newfound Liverpudlian…friends. Lizzy guessed that they could be considered friends. After all, for the past few days, she'd been a little _more _than friendly with Brian. She had been hanging out with Brian, Stu and Pam for a couple hours now, and only had about another half hour until she was due back at her grandmother's house for their last dinner together before she and her parents departed in the morning.

"So, have ya enjoyed yer stay in Liverpool?" Stu asked. Lizzy--whose fingers were intertwined with Brian's as he sat beside her on the couch--looked up at the older boy and grinned.

"Of course," she said. Then, she heaved a sigh. "I really am going to miss it."

"You could always come back sometime, ya know," Brian pointed out, trailing a finger from his free hand down the side of Lizzy's cheek, pushing away a couple strands of her dark hair from her face. She blushed slightly, partially from the sound of his accent and the sensation of his fingers ghosting along her cheek. "'S not like we're kickin' ya out or anything." Lizzy tried not to laugh at the irony of that statement.

"I would love to come back. Maybe I can study abroad here in college."

A silence settled among them, until Pam abruptly exclaimed, "You won't forget about us, will ya Lizzy?" Lizzy laughed. Sometimes, Pam's personality matched Penny's, the drummer from Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. She was almost always upbeat and hyper--although, looking back on it now, maybe it had been the drugs that had made Penny that way…

"No, I won't," she responded, smirking as Brian placed his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tighter to him. "I'll get your addresses before I leave and write to you guys when I get the chance. Sound good?"

Pam nodded. "Bri, me 'n Stu are gonna raid yer kitchen." she decided, since she hadn't eaten any lunch. She wanted to drag Stu with her to give Lizzy and Brian some time to themselves, because she knew Lizzy had to say her goodbyes. As soon as the two of them disappeared into the other room, Brian cupped Lizzy's face in his hands and his lips collided with hers. The kiss became more intense, and Lizzy went along with it, even though she was shocked at how quickly things were progressing. Then again, she'd seen a taste of how different the culture was here in comparison to the States when they had gone to the Cavern Club.

Lizzy had been fairly compliant…that is, until Brian started to feel her up. As wonderful as it _did _feel, she knew it would be very, very wrong to take their relationship--or whatever it was; she wasn't positive if what they had could be considered an _actual_ relationship--to another level. She grabbed Brian's hand, which had been rubbing circles in the inside of her thigh, and held it in her own. Then, she broke their kiss.

"We shouldn't," she urged. "I'm leaving tomorrow." It wouldn't be smart of them to do something like this, especially since she had only known Brian for a little over a week. Besides, what they had wasn't really anything; sure, Lizzy liked Brian, but she didn't _love_ him. She understood what his intentions were, and she had a good enough head on her shoulders to know that she wanted her first time to happen because of love, not just some random, summer fling. She wasn't that kind of girl, and she wasn't going to let Brian take advantage of her.

"All the more reason to," Brian replied, giving her another soft, lingering kiss. "C'mon, Lizzy, why can't we 'ave a little fun before ya go?"

"Really, Brian, I don't want to," Lizzy was trying to be as polite as possible, but Brian wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. He went in for a kiss once more, and carefully placed her so she was lying on the couch. Lizzy quickly pushed against his chest, trying everything to avoid his lips crashing into hers. "I said _no_."

"What's yer problem?" he asked, a hint of anger lacing his once-gorgeous accent. She shoved her hands into his chest again, pissed off.

"I told you to _stop_. Why can't you listen?"

"Lizzy--"

"No, Brian. Get _off_ me. _Now_, or I'll kick you. I'm not kidding."

"Mate, what the 'ell's the matter with ya?" Stu unexpectedly demanded, stalking over to his friend. Pam stood in the doorway of the living room, wide-eyed. Stu had heard the argument while he and Pam were returning to the living room, and had therefore picked up his pace before Brian could do something stupid. Brian scrambled off Lizzy, and received a hard smack in the back of his head, courtesy of Stu. "Ya can't just force yerself on 'er. She said no."

Lizzy got off the couch, throwing a short glare at Brian. She'd lost all respect for him, and regretted ever wasting her thoughts and feelings on that boy. In the end, he'd only been after one thing.

"Thanks." she told Stu.

"You want me to walk ya to yer grandmother's?" he inquired. She nodded.

"Sure."

Lizzy said goodbye to Pam, and wrote down her (as well as Stu's) address on a piece of paper in her sketchbook before leaving with Stu. She didn't say goodbye to Brian, and she didn't want to write to him, either.

She and Stu walked side-by-side to Martha's house, shivering a bit from the chilly air. They ambled along in silence until Stu finally spoke.

"Sorry 'bout Brian, Lizzy. He doesn't think before he acts."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you intervened when you did," she stated as they arrived at Martha Feeny's house. "Thank you for showing me around. I had a good time here." She hugged him, and he returned it.

"See ya 'round."

She laughed. "Yeah." And with that, she retreated into her grandmother's house for dinner. Tomorrow, she would be leaving Liverpool behind.

* * *

**A/N: I know it's not that spectacular…but it's an update. Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, guys. School's crazy right now, with only a month or so left until my semester ends. I'll try to post more when I can! I haven't given up on it, so don't worry! Please review! It's very much appreciated. **


	42. I Need You

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!!!**

**A/N: I'm terribly, terribly sorry for such a long delay between chapters. My semester is almost over, and pretty soon I will have a lot of time off, so I'll be able work on this fic. I hope you understand! Now, here's the long awaited Chapter 42--Enjoy! It's long!**

* * *

It was raining as Lizzy stared out the window of the taxi that had been carrying herself and her parents through the dark streets of New York City.

It had been raining when they had left Liverpool, too.

Martha Feeny had been unable to follow them to the airport, but she had stood outside her home under an umbrella to say goodbye before they departed. She'd kissed Lizzy's cheeks, then held her granddaughter close while the eighteen-year-old tried to remember the scent of her grandmother's perfume. She memorized every line on the old woman's face; every smile she'd been given by her had been carefully locked away in Lizzy's memory for safe keeping.

"Don't be a stranger, dear," Martha had said. "You're always welcome back."

And Lizzy knew that she_ would _be back eventually. Liverpool was like a third home, and the proof of that was in her blood. She would never be a stranger there. After all, she half-belonged to the country, in her opinion.

The halls of their apartment building were dark as well, and filled with a deafening silence while Lucy, Jude, and Lizzy carried their luggage up to their apartment. Walking into their warm, dry, home, they weren't met with the loud group of their family members, which they had expected. It was very early in the morning, and they figured no one would have the energy to stay awake and greet them. However, their arrival didn't go totally unnoticed--there was a banner bearing the words 'Welcome Home' hung across the kitchen doorway, and a couple of messages were left on their answering machine. Finding their apartment empty and peacefully quiet was somewhat of a relief though, as much as they loved the family. Jude, Lucy, and Lizzy were extremely tired from their long trip, and wanted nothing more to retire to bed, not having to worry about anything until later that morning.

Well, it just so happened that the three of them skipped over morning and woke up sometime in the early afternoon instead. Luckily, the family held off for awhile, probably figuring that they would sleep in after getting in so early. Lucy took Lizzy to get her pictures developed to show to her aunts, uncles, and cousins, and about an hour or so after they returned home, everyone started showing up.

"Lizzy," Lucy called down the hall, in the direction of her daughter's bedroom, "Aunt Val and Uncle Max and the kids are here."

"Okay," Lizzy replied, flipping through said pictures herself, "be there in a minute."

She continued to glance at the photos, taking out the ones she really didn't want, which were namely the ones of her and Brian. There weren't many, but nevertheless, she felt inclined to rip them up and forget about them. Brian wasn't someone she wished to remember, as opposed to Pam and Stu; especially since she had the unfortunate pleasure of finding out what he'd _really _wanted from her.

Taking the pictures and her sketchbook with her, Lizzy went into the living room, where she found her parents sitting with Valerie, Max, Michelle, and little Max. She greeted each of them with a hug, and plopped into a chair closest to her aunt and uncle in order to show them the various photographs and drawings. While she was pulling the pictures out, Max tugged on the sleeve of her shirt, causing her to look up.

Smirking, he asked, "So, what'd you bring me back, squirt?"

Valerie heard this, and smacked her husband in the arm. "Hon, you're worse than the kids…"

"Well, _obviously_," Max replied matter-of-factly, "they only inherited _half _of my brilliance."

Valerie held back a snort. "Is _that_ what you call it, dear?" Max fought the urge to make a rude comment, and took the stack of pictures that Lizzy was holding out to him. Lizzy smiled, realizing how much she'd actually missed the little banter between her Uncle Max and Aunt Valerie. It wasn't fighting--it was childish comments thrown back and forth that obviously showed the two of them flirting with each other, even through their marriage. Hearing how much of a womanizer her uncle was, Lizzy would've never believed that he had settled down. But, Valerie was a perfect match for him. Her sarcasm and sense of humor rivaled his, and it was apparent that she loved Max very much, otherwise she wouldn't be able to tolerate him. Their trust and confidence around each other was strong, especially because they were so comfortable making fun of one another without much of a problem.

These little bouts of teasing were entertaining for Lizzy to watch, too, whenever they came up.

Lizzy spent the next few hours with her family as they all arrived, passing around the pictures and sketches, telling stories, and handing out the little knickknacks they had brought back from Liverpool. The little gifts had been picked out by Lizzy, and were mostly for the kids, whereas Jude and Lucy chose something else for each adult couple. Everyone began leaving just shy of dinnertime, letting the three of them relax some more. They were still plenty tired, but it was nice to visit with everyone after being away for two weeks.

"Oh, Lizzy," Jude said from the kitchen, where he was attempting to help Lucy with dinner, "The Harrisons called while you were out with yer mum getting the pictures. They said something about you comin' to Florida…"

Lizzy, who had been sitting in the living room, immediately turned around and leaned over the back of the couch to face her parents. She was grinning. "Really?"

"Yeah," Lucy affirmed. "You can call them back now if you want. Dinner won't be ready for a little bit. Tell them you'll be free that weekend--they said they wanted you to come down the weekend two weeks before school starts."

"Awesome!" Lizzy shouted, scrambling up from the couch. She went in her room to use her own phone, because she knew she wouldn't be able to hear with all of the noise coming from the kitchen, as her father continued his efforts to assist in cooking their meal. Sitting on her bed, she picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number of the Harrisons' house. As she waited for them to pick up, she wrapped and unwrapped the phone cord around her finger, a smile still plastered on her face. She couldn't wait to visit Florida, even if it was only for a weekend. She'd get the chance to catch up with the Harrisons, maybe visit the beach, and of course, hang out with Paul--which was clearly the most exciting part of the trip. She'd written to him and talked to him over the phone since graduation, but nothing would compare to seeing him face-to-face again, and spending time with him like they did before she left.

Mrs. Harrison finally answered the phone after a couple of rings. "Lizzy!"

The teenager was slightly confused. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Mother's intuition."

She laughed. "Of course," Lizzy said. "My parents said you called earlier, about spending a weekend in Florida."

"Yes! Are you free? We miss you and we want to hear all about your trip to Liverpool!" Mrs. Harrison responded. Lizzy could tell that she was beaming on the other end.

"I'm free. I can't wait…"

"Oh, me either. Don't worry about anything, Lizzy, Charlie and I are taking care of the expenses, okay? I'm so happy you can come!" It was interesting to hear Mrs. Harrison in such an eager state, yet it was comforting to know that she still had a connection with her former adoptive parents and that she could talk to Mrs. Harrison so easily. "And, you're probably dying to see Paul, right?"

"Yeah, I'm going to call him soon to tell him I'm coming."

"Great! Mr. Harrison's not here right now to talk to you, but we'll see you in a few weeks…I'll let you go, I bet you're still tired from your trip. I love you, Lizzy!"

"Love you, too. Tell Mr. Harrison I said hi."

"I will. Bye!"

"Bye."

Lizzy hung up, shaking her head. It was still a little strange to get used to the chipper mood that Mrs. Harrison was in when they talked, but she was grateful to have patched up their once tense relationship. The eighteen-year-old stood and poked her head out into the hallway.

"Mom, is it all right if I call Paul?"

"That's fine--we're having dinner troubles anyway…we might have to order out."

"Luce, I said I was sorry!" Lizzy heard Jude shout. She rolled her eyes, wondering why her mother had actually let her father help with the cooking. He tried baking cookies one time before, and that ended in disaster, so why would this be any different? Lizzy figured her mother would no longer let him anywhere near the kitchen after this fiasco--and she didn't even know what they were trying to make in the first place. She could now smell burnt food of some sort, though, which was never a good sign…

The teenager retreated to her bedroom again, plopping unceremoniously onto the bed, anxious to talk to her best friend. She was ecstatic to tell him that she was visiting for a weekend fairly soon, so they could make plans beforehand. What she really wanted to talk about, though, was how much she missed him. And not only _him_, but truthfully, being _with_ him in a relationship. For the entire plane ride back to New York, Lizzy had thought over her brief…_thing _(it wasn't so much of a relationship, but there were some feelings there until he turned out to be a jerk) with Brian, and it made her realize that she missed the two of them as a couple, not just best friends.

Every time she had kissed Brian, there was always some apprehension. Now, Lizzy knew _why_. She had been hesitant toward Brian's actions that whole time they were sort of together because deep down, she still felt something for Paul. And she hadn't been able to admit that to herself until she actually thought it through during the plane ride.

She was willing to have that long-distance relationship with Paul, she suddenly decided. She was definitely and wholeheartedly willing to make it work if it meant that she and Paul could have what they had had before.

_Why does distance make us wise? _She thought.

She loved him, and it took going across the Pond and almost being taken advantage of by another guy to comprehend that Paul was the only person on this planet that she wanted to be with. They were completely _perfect_ for each other, and always had been, no matter the distance. She didn't want to be friends, she wanted to be _more_. It had worked so well, and she wanted that _back_.

Would Paul be willing to do that? From the sound of things in his letters, it seemed like he missed her just as much. Could they pick things up from where they left off when she visited Florida in a couple of weeks?

God, she hoped so.

Her hand trembling with impatience, she dialed the number of Paul's house and waited for him to pick up.

* * *

Clarabella sat on Paul's couch, flipping absentmindedly through the channels on the TV in a desperate search for something to watch. She knew the search would be unsuccessful, since this was the sole reason why her boyfriend had left to rent them a movie. There wasn't a blessed thing on. Hopefully, Paul would come back with a good movie; maybe he would compromise on a chick flick, just for her. She couldn't wait to make a large bowl of popcorn and curl up on the couch with him. They'd originally planned to go to the park and spend the day outside, but the plan backfired when it started raining two hours ago. It hadn't stopped since, so they had to come up with a new agenda. Personally, Clara preferred _this_--she was never an outdoorsy sort of person, anyway.

The blond settled on some crappy made-for-TV movie, not exactly paying attention, since it was almost halfway over. That was when the phone suddenly rang on the beside her, making the young girl jump. She glared indignantly at it, letting it ring. She was unsure whether or not to pick it up. She figured it wasn't her place to go answering other people's phones, and chose to ignore it. Then, the answering machine clicked on.

"Hey, Paul," A female's voice began, piquing Clara's attention, "It's Lizzy."

Lizzy? The name sounded familiar to her…wasn't that Paul's supposed "friend"? Clara was skeptical about the true nature of their relationship to this day, and this message on Paul's answering machine made her suspicions about this girl increase.

"Just wanted to let you know I'm home…When you get this, call me back…I really think we should talk--"

Clara cut off the message, grabbing the phone. She was curious about this girl. She figured it wouldn't hurt, if she played dumb and just took a message from her. Paul could call her back once their movie was over.

"Hello?"

"Uh…hi? Is Paul there?"

"No, he's not. Who is this?"

"Lizzy…"

"Oh…_right_, you're Paul's friend."

"Umm, yeah," Lizzy confirmed. Clara noted how confused this girl sounded, and she also detected a little bit of disappointment in her tone of voice. This made Clara question their relationship further. "Can you…uh, tell Paul I called?"

"Sure thing," Clara said pleasantly. "He ran to the store to get us a movie, so he should be back soon."

"Thanks." Lizzy answered quietly.

"No problem," The blond told her, smiling. "Bye."

Clara hung up the phone before she could hear Lizzy mutter a goodbye in response. She smirked, knowing full well that that girl was jealous. _Best friends my ass, _she thought. Either they had been together at one point, or this chick was very territorial and picky about who her best friend dated. Clara hoped it was the latter; she didn't feel like dealing with a jealous ex-girlfriend. Then again, having a defensive and overprotective female best friend on her hands wasn't any good, either.

Paul waltzed into the apartment about ten minutes later, carrying their movie. She smiled at him, deciding she would let it go--she wouldn't let that chick ruin her relationship with Paul. She hoped that whatever was in their past together would stay _in the past_.

She grinned at her boyfriend, patting the space beside her on the couch, inviting him to sit. "Hey, babe," she greeted, "Glad you're back."

* * *

Lizzy set the phone in its receiver, moving slowly. She didn't quite know what to make of that particular call. Who the hell was that…that _girl _answering Paul's house phone? She sounded young, maybe even her own age. It couldn't have been a family member, like a cousin or something, because Lizzy had met Paul's entire family. There weren't many relatives, and any female cousin he did have, they were way too young to be answering his phone. Lizzy _never_ picked up Paul's house phone, and she had been his best friend since they were in preschool. She practically lived there.

_Who _was this girl?

The teenager felt jealousy bubbling up inside of her, and she knew she shouldn't feel that way. She just couldn't help it.

She didn't truly know if Paul was dating that girl or not. Even if he was, she shouldn't be envious, right? Paul was single as soon as she had stepped onto that plane, so he was allowed to date other girls, like she was allowed to see Brian. They'd parted as friends, like they had agreed upon.

But Lizzy couldn't fight off the overwhelming disappointment she felt, too.

That was the problem, really. She'd expected Paul to be single, so that she could tell him how she was coming to Florida for a weekend and that she wanted to get back together. She was going to tell him how wrong she was--that they could make their long-distance relationship work, because she missed being with him.

Because she missed being _his_.

If Paul was dating this girl, it looked like that wasn't going to happen. He'd moved on, and no matter how many times Lizzy tried to tell herself that that was okay, it really wasn't. It hurt, a lot. Because now that she wanted him back…she understood that she wanted something she could no longer have.

And that just wasn't fucking _fair_.

When the phone rang about twenty minutes later, Lizzy didn't want to answer it. She knew who it was, and she didn't want to talk to him, didn't want him to hear the upset tone in her voice.

Nevertheless, her mother shouted to her, "Paul's on the phone, Lizzy!"

She couldn't turn it down then. "Okay!" she replied, reluctantly seizing the phone, "I got it!" With a sigh, she put the phone up to her ear and tried to hide the sadness she was currently feeling. "Hey, Paul."

"Hey, Miss Lizzy…it's good to hear from you. How was Liverpool?"

"Fabulous, of course," she stated. "But I'll get to tell you all about it when I visit Florida in a couple of weeks."

There was a pause before the news sunk in. "Really? No way…"

"Yes, _way_," Lizzy mocked. "I'm coming down there to stay with the Harrisons for a weekend."

"Wow…Lizzy, that's…great," Paul said, shocked. "It'll be nice to finally _see_ you."

"Yeah."

The enthusiasm faded from Lizzy voice at her last response, and an awkward silence filled either end of the phone. She could tell there was reluctance in Paul's voice, like he wasn't allowing himself to become genuinely excited. That hurt, too, because Lizzy's knew _why_. He knew things would be awkward when she came to Florida…because _she_ would be there.

Why were things so uncomfortable between them? Lizzy never remembered all of this awkwardness in their phone conversations before…it was disconcerting to find that she couldn't talk easily with her best friend.

Then, it dawned on her. _She_ was probably still at his house.

Lizzy was curious about her, and she wanted to know the truth. She wasn't afraid to ask straight out, so she did. "Paul…who was that girl who answered the phone earlier?"

There was another pause. _Shit_, Lizzy thought, closing her eyes and dreading the answer now, _this can't be good. Not at all. _

"Her name's Clarabella," he declared carefully, "She's my, uh, girlfriend."

Lizzy's heart sank. She knew it was true, but hearing it right from Paul's mouth shoved the knife deeper into her heart.

She tried to cover it up--she really and truly _tried_. But it didn't seem to be working, and she figured Paul could tell she was attempting to act nonchalant about it.

"Oh…she seems…nice."

_Nice_ wasn't her first choice in adjectives to describe this girl, but…it wasn't as if she could say what she wanted to aloud.

"She is."

"I guess I'll get to meet her when I come to Florida, huh?"

Paul didn't exactly say much in reply to that, but he made an effort to laugh it off.

"Well, I'll see you in a couple weeks…I miss you. Goodbye, Paulie."

"Bye, Miss Lizzy."

Heaving another sigh, Lizzy placed the phone in its receiver a little more aggressively than she intended to, and sat back on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. Usually, after talking to Paul, she felt happy. This time, she felt like shit. She stared out the window, where the sun was beginning to set. It seemed like that couldn't even lift her spirits.

"_You don't realize how much I need you_

_Love you all the time and never leave you_

_Please come on back to me _

_I'm lonely as can be _

_I need you _

_Said you had a thing or two to tell me _

_How was I to know you would upset me _

_I didn't realize_

_As I looked in you eyes _

_You told me…_"

Lizzy clutched the pillow tighter to her, struggling to keep the tears in. She could feel the burning in her eyes and at the back of her throat, but she didn't want to give into it.

"…_Oh, yes you told me _

_You don't want my lovin' anymore _

_That's when it hurt me _

_And feeling like this _

_I just can't go on anymore _

_Please remember how I feel about you _

_I could never really live without you _

_So come on back and see _

_Just what you mean to me_

_ I need you._"

She couldn't take it anymore. She let the tears come, flowing down her cheeks and onto her arms that were wrapped around the pillow. She didn't make any effort to wipe them away or stop herself. Her heart was broken, and all she really wanted to do was to let her emotions out.

"_Oh, yes you told me _

_You don't want my lovin' anymore _

_That's when it hurt me _

_And feeling like this _

_I just can't go on anymore _

_Please remember how I feel about you _

_I could never really live without you _

_So come on back and see _

_Just what you mean to me _

_I need you _

_I need you _

_I need you…" _

* * *

**A/N: I felt horrible writing that, but you knew it was going to happen sooner or later, right?**

**I'm dedicating this chapter to George Harrison, since today is the anniversary of his death. He was truly a great musician, and I know he'll always be missed…If you noticed, I even used a song he wrote at the end of the chapter… **

**Also, here's a bit of trivia that's actually not Beatles related: there's a line from RENT in this chapter. Points go to whoever can catch it--it should be pretty obvious if you're a RENT fan. I also added it in there because it fit well with Lizzy's situation. If you know RENT, you'll get the similarities…**

**Please review! It's always appreciated! **


	43. The Night Before

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything…except Lizzy, Paul, Clara, the Harrisons and any other character you don't recognize. **

**A/N: Hey, all! I apologize **_**profusely **_**for the extremely long wait…but I'm back. Life got in the way, as did writer's block, college, and some personal matters.**

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews! (And actually, Chapter 42 received the most reviews thus far! It was also the longest chapter I've written for this story. Which is awesome.) I'm glad to have such amazing readers and reviewers who have been faithfully following this story. And again, I am SO unbelievably sorry for keeping you waiting. And really, I didn't want to put up some crappy excuse for a chapter; I wanted to give you guys something good to read, even if it is somewhat short. I think the next chapter will be longer, because I want Lizzy's Florida visit to be all in one chapter.**

**And by the way, points to those who successfully picked out the RENT quote: "Why does distance make us wise?" sung by Roger to Mimi in the song, "Your Eyes". Enjoy Chapter 43! Please review—it's always appreciated!**

* * *

Lizzy was settled in the center of her bed, dressed in a white tank top and light cotton pajama capri pants. It wasn't even eight-thirty, but she'd retreated into her room for some down time. She sat against the headboard, bare ankles crossed over each other, somewhat relaxed. A soft breeze fluttered through the window, which was open halfway to let in some fresh air to fight the late August humidity. It had begun to rain a few minutes ago, so Lizzy could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the pavement and roofs of buildings surrounding her own. The wind brought with it that sweet, clean scent of rain that she loved, especially during the summertime. The storm mirrored her saddened emotions but also provided a sense of tranquility, balancing the internal struggle Lizzy was feeling about the trip to Florida.

She was due to leave tomorrow morning. Her suitcase was sitting in the corner, abandoned. She had had the intention of packing early and not procrastinating about it, but whenever she'd tried, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Ever since her last phone call with Paul (and she hadn't heard from him since; she couldn't force herself to call him, either), she'd been torn about the whole upcoming visit. On one hand, she was excited to see Mr. and Mrs. Harrison again and stay in the house she grew up in for a weekend. However, seeing Paul would break her heart more, now that she knew he was dating someone else. And, if Paul happened to be hanging out with his new girlfriend while she visited with him, the entire situation would be awkward. Lizzy had hated the uneasiness between them on the phone last time; nothing had ever been that tense between them before. If it was worse with them being face to face, Lizzy wasn't sure if she could take that.

They'd been _best friends_—close, inseparable friends since preschool. How had they managed to effectively screw that up in the course of almost a year? Lizzy had gained a lot. Her true family, a new home and a fresh start, a college education at the school of her dreams… How could she have gotten so much but lost what felt like the same amount? She and Paul had nearly made their relationship work, but Lizzy had thought it best that they end it; the distance would be too much, she assumed. Now the distance _and_ her past choices were causing their friendship to crumble. That was last thing Lizzy wanted. Paul's friendship meant the world to her. Paul had been there for her through everything, even before she had learned about all of this adoption business. And what did she do to him? She left him in the dust—left him behind for a better life in the Big Apple with all the opportunities she could ever want.

Lizzy was realizing this with bitter heartache. She'd been so overwhelmed and excited about the quick turn of events that she hadn't exactly taken into account Paul's feelings or reactions. She'd asked him, of course, but she could see now that there had been something wrong. _She'd _broken up with him._ She'd _made the decision. Paul had gained nothing from this, and that made Lizzy both angry and upset at herself. How could she have been so _selfish_? To her best friend, of all people in this world? Lizzy had pushed away and possibly ruined the relationship she'd had with the one person who knew her better than she knew herself. Was it too late to repair the damage? Would 'sorry' be enough?

The teenager wiped away a tear that had escaped and slid down her cheek as someone knocked on the door.

Startled, Lizzy asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Sadie, sweet pea."

"Come in."

Sadie opened the door just so she could fit through, and closed it quietly behind her. She shook her head at the sullen teenager, as well as the empty suitcase, knowing that something was up. Lizzy's usually bright, cheerful demeanor hadn't been quite right since she'd talked to Paul last. Jude and Lucy had been especially concerned but hadn't been able to get a word about it out of their daughter. Sadie figured she could do her best to help, considering her past 'girl talk' sessions with Lizzy.

The singer approached the bed where her niece sat, and Lizzy scooted over to make room for Sadie. Sadie took up residence on the edge of the bed while the teenager drew her knees up to her chest, her cobalt eyes welling up with unshed tears. Humming a tune softly, Sadie began running her hand through Lizzy's dark brown hair. They stayed like that for some time before Sadie attempted to get some answers.

"Lizzy," she started delicately, "What's the matter, baby? What happened to the sunshine? Where'd my girl go?"

"I don't know."

Sadie shook her head again, laughing somewhat. "I think we both know that's a lie," she answered. "You can talk to me, Lizzy. It's all right. Tell me what's got you down."

Lizzy's stomach twisted into knots. "Paul has a girlfriend."

"And this clearly upsets you."

She nodded. "It shouldn't," Lizzy admitted, "but it does." She shifted positions, folding her legs instead. She took a deep breath, and Sadie waited for her to continue, getting the feeling that the teenager had more to say.

"I miss what we had. I still…I still love him, Sadie."

"Of course you do, sweet pea. What you two had together was special—anyone could see that."

"I just want things to go back to the way they were. I wish we could get back together. I wish I hadn't been so damn selfish. I hurt him—I _know_ I hurt him, but I didn't realize it 'til now. I want to make things right again…apologize for hurting him because now_ I_ know how it feels."

"Well, you know that old saying, baby: 'Karma's a bitch'. You learned it the hard way."

Lizzy grunted in response, aware that she kind of deserved it.

"I'm proud of you, Lizzy. Not everyone can admit their mistakes. It's a hard thing to do, but it makes you more of an adult for doing it."

"Do you think Paul will ever forgive me?" she asked. "That he'll ever…possibly…want me back?"

"To be honest, I don't really know. You'll have to see how this pans out. Just talk to him, Lizzy. That's what the two of you need right now—a nice, long chat to sort things through."

They sat in silence for a bit, with Lizzy weighing Sadie's words. The singer was right. She couldn't shy away from this; she had to deal with it, despite the fact that it had caused her heartache and regret. Paul needed to know that she recognized her past mistakes and felt incredibly terrible for hurting him. That was the only way they could repair their friendship and perhaps continue their romantic relationship sometime in the future.

All of these twists and turns in her life were beginning to make her dizzy.

"Besides," Sadie declared suddenly, after awhile, "I doubt this girl he's seeing is better than you."

Lizzy let out of half-hearted laugh, shrugging. "You're just saying that because you're my aunt."

* * *

"Jeez, squirt, we get you back for a few weeks and then you leave again." Max told the teenager the next morning while loading her suitcase into the family van. He had offered to drive Lizzy to the airport, accompanied by both Michelle and Eleanor, who had gotten up early for the excursion.

"I'll be back in a few days, Uncle Max." Lizzy replied in a teasing tone, rolling her eyes playfully. She climbed into the passenger seat while Michelle and Eleanor sat beside each other in the back. Max pulled the door closed and slid into the driver's side, slamming his own door shut.

"Yeah, no more leaving for fifteen years shit." He remarked.

Michelle gasped, mocking, "Ooh, Daddy, I'm gonna tell Mom you swore."

Max scoffed. "Go right ahead. I don't care."

"Fine. I will."

"Okay, then."

Lizzy smiled at the ever-present father/daughter banter. Then again, he could virtually create any sort of banter with anyone, but it was especially cute between Max and his daughter, or Max and his wife.

The rest of the ride to the airport went on like that. Max would tease his daughter and she would mock-argue with him, and both Eleanor and Lizzy would either laugh or roll their eyes at their uncle's immaturity. As they parked in one of the temporary parking lots at the airport, Michelle got bored with the banter and started—politely as she could manage—asking Lizzy to bring her something back from Florida. Lizzy promised that she would get something special for each of them, and Max and Jimi, too.

"What about me?" Max wanted to know.

Lizzy shook her head. "Only if you behave while I'm gone." She taunted with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am."

They walked her into the airport, going as far as they were allowed. Lizzy said her goodbyes to her uncle and cousins before walking off to wait in the designated area for her flight to start boarding its passengers. When it was time, she stepped onto the plane with her stomach doing flip-flops out of both excitement and dread. Unfortunately, she didn't have a window seat, so she couldn't preoccupy herself with the views of the sky and clouds while they flew. It was extremely early in the morning, but Lizzy wasn't compelled to sleep for most of the flight, either. Instead, she busied herself with sketching—a beach scene, a page of mindless doodles, a skyline of towering buildings—for half the plane ride. The other half was spent writing out possible conversation starters for the impending talk Lizzy needed to have with Paul. She hadn't felt this miserable about talking with her best friend since they'd had that conversation that ended their romantic relationship. It was ironic how this chat was a direct result of the first one.

No matter how Lizzy tried to word it, she couldn't come up with something good enough. Everything seemed too cliché and overused. But maybe that was the route she had to go, even if she hated it. Lizzy had briefly considered writing him a note and just leaving it in the mailbox at his apartment building, but that made her look like too much of a coward. And that would most likely make the whole situation worse. She couldn't avoid Paul during this trip—there wouldn't be a way to do that at all. Besides, despite the awkwardness and approaching heavy conversation, Lizzy missed him and wanted to see him. She _had_ to face this. She had to face her mistakes and attempt to fix them.

However, she also kept thinking about the possible reactions Paul would have. So many unanswered questions swam around in her mind. What would he say? Would he forgive her? Would he be upset that she hadn't figured out her mistake sooner? Or would he be happy that she had acknowledged her error and was trying to make amends? Most heart-wrenching of all: would he still continue dating this girl? It seemed wrong to be so jealous of her, but Lizzy couldn't help it even if it was her fault. She'd let Paul go, and someone else had taken him. And now she had realized that she hadn't _really_ meant to let him go in the first place.

When the plane landed, Lizzy's stomach started flip-flopping again, and it wasn't from the impact of the plane touching back down. Gathering her carry-on things, she heaved one last loud sigh and exited the plane, mentally preparing herself for what she knew would be a very _interesting_ visit.


	44. Yes It Is

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, with the exceptions of Lizzy, Paul, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, and even Clarabella (is it possible to hate your own character? LOL).**

**A/N: Let me say that I love my readers and reviewers! You guys are pretty much awesome. Sorry for the wait, again. But I know you all have been waiting eagerly for this chapter. Thank you very much for being so incredibly patient. I just want you all to know that my stomach was doing just as many flip-flops as Lizzy's in this chapter—yes, even yours truly was caught up in the anxiousness of the situation while writing. This is a LONG chapter, so enjoy and please review!**

* * *

"It's so great to have you here with us, Lizzy." Maggie Harrison was saying as they exited the car.

She wrapped the teenager in a tight hug, which had been about the fifth one she'd received since she had first arrived at the airport a half an hour ago. Lizzy had returned each of them with sincerity—even the one Charlie had given her on the way to the car in the airport parking lot. It was strange how this whole adoption situation had changed their relationship dramatically. The bitterness and tension that had always been between the three of them had disappeared, and Lizzy was free to be herself around them without being judged. There weren't any more lies or secrets. They were relaxed and comfortable in each other's presence, and despite the two of them not being her biological parents, Lizzy continued to view Maggie and Charlie as an extra set of parents instead. They would always hold a special place in her heart regardless of whether or not they had actually brought her into the world. They'd raised her since she was young when her parents couldn't, and for that, she was forever grateful.

"I'm glad I was able to come before school starts." Lizzy agreed. She walked in between the Harrisons, following their lead to a table in the patio of one of her favorite outdoor cafés, Strawberry Fields, while she'd grown up in Florida. She was thankful that Charlie had been able to get out of work early in order to accompany Maggie to the airport to pick her up, and then spend the rest of Friday with her, as well as the weekend. She would be leaving Sunday night, so she had to make the best of her fairly short visit.

She was also quite thankful for the umbrella providing shade over their table. It was a little past eleven in the morning in the middle of August, and therefore the sun was beating down full force, with the temperature already a balmy eighty-seven degrees. Although the shade was nice, Lizzy was still sweating profusely. If she hadn't been smart enough to change out of her jeans when they'd stopped by the house to deposit her belongings, she knew she'd be sweltering right now.

They glanced at the menu after a waitress took their drink orders—Lizzy had gotten herself a tall glass of much-needed ice water. She was hungry from not eating a proper breakfast this morning before leaving for the airport with Max and her cousins. She eventually decided on the signature salad that they served at the place, which of course had strawberries in it, with an order of French fries on the side. Once she and the Harrisons had put in their orders for food, Charlie started up a conversation, interested in Lizzy's ever-approaching college career.

"So, Lizzy, are you all settled for your first semester?"

"Charlie, I'm sure she doesn't want to discuss that right now. She's on vacation."

"No, really, it's okay," Lizzy told them. "I'm pretty much set, I guess. I had orientation last week. I don't think I'll get too lost around campus; the people there are helpful."

"Did you make any friends at orientation?" Maggie asked.

"A few who are in the same major. I actually got asked to join the student art magazine, which is cool, since the one Dad works for is kind of…flaky, at times. Of course, we wouldn't get paid for that, but it gets my art published."

"That sounds wonderful. You should really pursue it. Send us copies, too, when your drawings get published—we want to keep tabs on your college life. It's hard to believe you're starting college in the first place…" Maggie sighed nostalgically.

"What about your classes?" Charlie questioned.

"They gave me my schedule at orientation. It's mostly general education classes and an introduction class for my major."

"What's your major, again?" he inquired, leaning forward with his hands clasped neatly in front of him. He was genuinely interested, she knew. Her education was always one of the things he took seriously, and even now that she was living in New York with Lucy and Jude, that interest still hadn't changed at all.

"Art education," Lizzy declared. "I want to teach high school art classes."

Maggie grinned knowingly. "_Your_ high school art teacher would be pleased."

Lizzy laughed. It was true that Mr. Henderson had been very influential on her. She could only hope that she would have that same impact on her future students, wherever she eventually ended up teaching. The prospect of that was exciting; even more so was that she was getting the opportunity to go to school to learn how to succeed in a field she loved.

"Well, Lizzy, make sure your parents know if they_ ever_ need any financial help while you're in college, all they have to do is ask. They don't need to be ashamed about asking, either. We're always happy to help them out." Charlie stated.

"Thank you." Lizzy replied, beaming. "I'll make sure to let them know."

"How is your family, by the way?" Maggie asked as the waitress arrived with their food. Lizzy glanced down at the huge salad being placed in front of her with appreciation before looking up at the Harrisons to address the most recent question. She smirked when the familiar and delicious scent of strawberries filled her nose—it was like she had a piece of her home in New York right here with her while at the same time, she was visiting her second home. The thought was interesting to take note of.

"Everyone's great."

"Good to hear." Charlie smiled.

They dug into their food at last, Lizzy taking in forkfuls of salad laced with strawberries between French fries smothered in ketchup. It was an odd combination, but she couldn't just skip out on the fries; she'd always ordered them every time she came to Strawberry Fields with the Harrisons because, quite simply, they were some of the best fries she'd had. When they were finished with their lunch, Lizzy ordered a hot fudge sundae—she was on vacation, for crying out loud, she was certainly allowed to overindulge—and the Harrisons each got a cup of coffee, with Maggie splurging along with Lizzy, since she also ordered a piece of strawberry cheesecake. Lizzy was comfortably full once Charlie had paid the bill, and thanked the Harrisons for treating her for lunch as they walked back to the car.

Resting her head against the backseat, Lizzy suddenly asked, "Have you talked to Mrs. Rigby lately?"

"We went out for coffee earlier this week, actually." Maggie answered.

"How is she?"

"She's doing well. Her new job is making things a lot easier."

"And Paul?"

"You haven't talked to him?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched Lizzy curiously through the rearview mirror. She shook her head, shifting leaning forward a little. "That's surprising."

"I know. Things have been…_hectic_ recently."

"He's seeing this girl—Clarabella, I think her name is."

"Yeah," Lizzy muttered. "He told me."

"She's a real sweetheart," Maggie said brightly. "They met at the restaurant where Paul works."

"Oh."

_So, that's how it is… _Lizzy thought.

"Speaking of Paul, I bet you're dying to see him." Maggie said, twisting around in her seat a little to look at the teenager.

Lizzy put on a somewhat forced smile. "Yeah, you could say that."

"We could stop by his apartment building right now, if you'd like."

"_No_," she said, more harshly than she'd intended, "I mean, I wanted to go back to the house first and freshen up, maybe grab a few things, and ask him if he wanted to go to the beach for awhile. If you don't mind, of course."

"Not at all."

"You can take the car—just be careful." Charlie offered. He wasn't going to forget that she'd trashed two of his most expensive cars. She was surprised he was even offering. In any case, Lizzy didn't want to risk it.

"I think I'll take my bike."

She could've sworn she heard Charlie let out a sigh of relief at that statement.

* * *

Lizzy stood in front of the bathroom mirror and let out a deep breath. She could've gone to Paul's when Mrs. Harrison had suggested, but she needed some time to mentally prepare herself. She'd slipped on her bathing suit underneath her clothes and packed a few things into a small beach bag, like sunscreen and her sketchbook, just in case. After brushing her hair and leaving it down even though it was scorching outside, she'd put on some perfume. She didn't bother with makeup at this point; it was a mistake on her part that she hadn't brought the waterproof kind, so any makeup she wore would end up being washed away or sweated off. Besides, Lizzy wasn't sure if going the extra mile in making herself look good was going to help in any way, shape, or form. Paul was taken, and she couldn't be positive that once they'd had this little chat, he would dump this rebound girl and welcome her back. That was wishful thinking.

This was it, though. She was going to head over to Paul's apartment, and hopefully he'd agree to go to the beach with her. She wouldn't bring on this conversation right away. She wanted to wait until after they'd spent some time together, getting reacquainted and such. Then, she'd break down and tell him everything—how wrong she had been, how sorry she was…He would probably react by escalating things into an argument, in which case he would never think of taking her back, or he would calmly accept her apologizes and their tight-knit bond would be mended once again. She was _really_ hoping that it would be the second scenario. Paul was a pretty laid back person, but judging from how much damage she'd brought upon him, he could be unpredictable.

With another deep breath, Lizzy slid her sunglasses on and exited the bathroom. Walking down the stairs, she told the Harrisons she would try to make it back for dinner, and then she went outside to grab her bike from the garage. She hadn't ridden her bike since before graduation, so she was slightly amazed that it had air in the tires and was in good working condition.

Obviously, she knew the way to Paul's well enough that she could've navigated her bike there with her eyes closed, so it didn't take long. Stowing her bike in the entranceway, off to the side, she decided to take the stairs to prolong the journey. With each step upward, Lizzy's heart quickened in pace and the so-called butterflies in her stomach fluttered horrendously. She had half a mind to turn around and just go to the beach by herself, using some lie to the Harrisons later. But Lizzy wasn't a coward. She faced things head-on, and this situation was no different.

Lizzy took a moment to compose herself in front of the door to his apartment. Her hand trembled a bit as she knocked on the door. She waited on bated breath for someone to answer, picturing a million different outcomes in her head during the two minutes it actually took for someone inside to open the door. For Lizzy, those two minutes felt like _years_. On top of that, it felt like she was roasting; was it extremely hot in the building or was it her own nervousness? It could've been both.

_Wonderful_, she thought sarcastically, _I'm going to be all sweaty and gross when Paul sees me. That'll_ really _make him want to take me back._

The teenager was greeted by Mrs. Rigby, which came as quite a relief. A huge smile broke on her best friend's mother's face as soon as she laid eyes on her.

"Lizzy!" she said, pulling her into a comforting embrace, "What a surprise to see you, sweetie!" She took Lizzy's hand and guided her just inside the doorway, shutting the door. It was much cooler inside; Mrs. Rigby had every single window open and fans in each room of the apartment that were in Lizzy's line of vision. It helped her gross sweating issue a little, but the nervous flip-flopping in her poor stomach hadn't dissipated.

"How are you?" Mrs. Rigby asked cheerfully.

"I'm good, thanks. How about you?"

She tugged on her shirt, blowing air into her own face. "Boiling. Other than that, I'm great," she laughed. "I knew you were visiting, but I wasn't sure when. How long are you in town for?"

"Just the weekend."

"That's nice. You're lucky; you picked the hottest weekend so far to come down here. I think it's supposed to get into the nineties pretty soon. Excellent beach weather, though. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked, hauling open the fridge. She grabbed a water bottle and pressed it to her cheeks and forehead.

"No, thank you."

"Right. I'm assuming you're looking for your friend, then?"

"Yeah." She attempted to grin in an excited manner. It was halfway sincere, because while she missed him terribly and wanted to see him, she couldn't shake the uneasiness.

"I'll get him for you." Mrs. Rigby walked off toward the hallway where the bedrooms were located and stood at the end of it, only sticking her head in that direction. "_Paulie_! Lizzy's here!"

She heard the squeak of his bedroom door, then footsteps and voices in the hall. When she finally saw him, Lizzy couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and jealously. She just _couldn't_ help it. Because, when Lizzy's blue eyes met Paul's tall form, she also saw who she assumed was Clarabella hanging off his arm. She was pretty—Lizzy had to give her that. And, as she'd suspected, she was also blonde with big boobs. _Of course_. He had picked a Playboy bunny-esque girlfriend, which Lizzy felt like she couldn't compete with on any level whatsoever.

It was exceedingly hard_ physically_ seeing him with another girl. It was difficult knowing about it over the phone, but witnessing it in person was heartache on a whole other level.

What she did notice, however, was that Paul's expression completely lit up once he saw _her_. That alone made her feel a_ little_ bit better. It had to mean_ something_, right?

"Lizzy." he stated happily with a wide grin. Was it just her, or did he sound _breathless_ saying her name?

Lizzy took a few steps forward, wondering if he'd detach himself from Rebound Girl. He approached her, and fortunately, Clarabella unhooked her arms from around Paul's, letting him go.

"Hey, Paul."

He reached forward first, pulling her into a friendly hug, which Lizzy immediately returned. It felt good to be this close to him again, after months of being apart.

"I missed you."

"Glad to have you here," Paul responded. "I missed, you, too, Lizzy."

She wanted to cry. She wanted him back so bad it nearly hurt. She missed him, and she missed _this_—this comfortable, familiar closeness.

They broke their embrace even though Lizzy didn't want to. She could almost_ feel_ Clarabella glaring daggers at her. She couldn't lie; causing jealousy on Clara's part made her happy inside.

Paul stepped back, putting his arm around Clarabella's waist, thus returning the jealousy to Lizzy's side. Clara was absolutely beaming, which was gradually making Lizzy even angrier. She knew what she was doing, and she probably knew what Lizzy was up to as well. The thing Lizzy wasn't sure about was whether or not Paul had told his new girlfriend that she had dated him before. On the phone, Clara had addressed Lizzy as Paul's friend, so it would be interesting if she had no clue that they'd been romantically involved.

Lizzy had a feeling that it was going to be like this the entire time she was here—the back and forth jealousy war. She couldn't help it, but if that was how Clarabella wanted to play, then so be it. Lizzy wasn't going to fight over Paul; she wanted him back, it was true, but at this point, there was nothing she could do. She realized in that moment that she could apologize and explain herself to her best friend, begging forgiveness and such, but in the end, it was up to Paul. If what he wanted was to stay with Clara, then she would have to accept that, even with the heartache involved. But if he wanted her back, she could most certainly live with that. She wasn't going to force herself on him; that would be ridiculous and Lizzy wasn't like that in the least. She wasn't going to play the crazy, obsessed ex-girlfriend card, groveling at Paul's feet until he accepted her into his romantic life again. She would be happy enough returning their friendship to its proper state. Being denied would be heartbreaking, of course—she was only human, and a hormonal young woman—but she could get by with Paul's friendship intact, at least.

"Lizzy, this is Clarabella," Paul introduced. "And Clarabella, this is my best friend, Lizzy."

Clara offered a smile. "Nice to meet you," she said, but Lizzy was sure that there wasn't much truth to her words. "Paulie's always talking about you."

"I'm not surprised," Lizzy answered. She was immediately irked that she was calling him 'Paulie', when in the past he'd only allowed her and his mother to get away with addressing him by that nickname. She saw, though, that he'd flinched a bit at the name, which made her grin inwardly. "We've been friends since preschool."

"So…" Paul cut in, sensing some tension in between them, "You look like you're ready to head down to the beach."

"I was on my way. I came over on my bike; I wanted to ask you if you'd like to tag along."

"Charlie didn't let you borrow the car?" Paul smirked knowingly, and for a moment the two of them shared the inside joke, leaving Clara completely out of the loop.

"He did offer, which is shocking," Lizzy giggled, "but I kinda got the feeling he didn't want me to drive another one of his precious cars, so I opted for the bike. I think he was secretly thanking the heavens for that decision."

"I wouldn't doubt that." Paul chuckled, glancing at Clara, who was still firmly attached to him. She stared at him with a questioning expression, but he simply shook his head. A few moments of awkward silence—Lizzy was sure there would be more of them while she was with Paul and his girlfriend—filled the room, with Paul and Lizzy pointedly avoiding each other's eyes. At the same time, they both seemed to be taking a trip down memory lane, remembering the series of events surrounding the inside joke with Charlie's cars. Clara, meanwhile, was confused and further doubting that her boyfriend and Lizzy had been just best friends. She had this distinct feeling that there was more to their story.

Paul finally cleared his throat. "You were saying something about the beach?" he asked.

"Yeah. Wanna come?"

"Sure," He peered down at Clara. "Would you mind if…Clara came, too?"

Inside, Lizzy was screaming every curse word imaginable. Beach trips were her and Paul's thing ever since they were old enough to go by themselves. She didn't want Clara to come—she'd been planning to initiate their deep and meaningful conversation there after they'd hung out for awhile. She'd been picturing it in her head during the plane ride and in the time she had been in Florida, and now absolutely nothing was going according to plan. However, it wasn't exactly in Lizzy's nature to be rude to people she'd just met or barely knew. Therefore, she couldn't say no. With Clara being the third wheel—or, really, it was Lizzy who was the third wheel, since Paul and Clara were together—she was aware that the trip wouldn't be as enjoyable. Lizzy figured she would be stuck sitting on the sidelines, watching Rebound Girl having fun with her ex-boyfriend. Not that she was jealous or anything.

"Not at all." Lizzy replied pleasantly, almost through gritted teeth.

And it happened like she thought it would, making her regret saying yes.

They'd ridden their bikes, of course, but Clara sat on the handlebars of Paul's bike for most of the ride down to the beach. Clara had almost fallen off a couple of times, which slowed them down and made the ride seem longer. When they finally got there, they chose a spot on the crowded shore, spreading out a blanket on the sand and setting their bags of assorted items and essentials on top of the blanket to keep it stationary. Clara peeled off her clothes, revealing her skimpy bathing suit (which, lo and behold, she kept at Paul's house, making Lizzy question how far their relationship had gone and consequently making her a little angry and somewhat jealous again) and extremely toned body, making Lizzy feel inadequate. Lizzy then had to watch as Clara asked Paul to help her put on some sunscreen, and the two of them flirted and kissed during the whole process.

It only seemed to get worse, because Paul and Clara flirted and kissed _a lot_. Lizzy sort of stood off to the side, walking along the damp sand and wading in the water while the two of them swam, chased each other through the surf, or splashed one another, laughing and thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Lizzy, now feeling terribly like the dreaded and annoying third wheel—not to mention ignored—remembered back to when she and Paul acted like he was with Clara. Although, their relationship felt like it had been more genuine and about just being in each other's presence every waking moment, whereas Clara was the noticeably touchy-feely type of girl. Lizzy wasn't sure if she was like this all the time, or if Clara was simply doing it because she was there. Either way, it was disgusting and bothersome.

After awhile, Lizzy got tired of it and wandered back to the blanket, taking out her sketchpad to do some work on a drawing she'd started in New York. She was copying a picture of her parents that she'd found one day while they'd been going through some old boxes; it had been taken in the sixties, in the time that Lucy and Jude began dating. Lizzy had secured the photo to her sketchbook with a paperclip so she could carry the picture with her. Paul had noticed Lizzy's antisocial behavior, and knew that something was up. He knew, actually, that this entire situation was awkward, and felt horrible for ignoring Lizzy like this. He walked back to where she was sitting, wrapping a towel around the lower half of his body. Clara was following in his wake, saying something about wanting to lie out in the sun and tan.

"Looks good," Paul said, plopping down on the blanket next to his best friend. "As usual. No big surprise there. Your artwork is always amazing."

"Thanks."

Paul suddenly leaned over and wrapped his arms around Lizzy, taking her completely by surprise.

"You're dripping wet and freezing cold!" Lizzy mock-complained, even though she leaned into his touch, letting her sketchpad and pencil fall onto the blanket. She couldn't understand why he would do such a thing when his girlfriend was right there, but she assumed his intentions were out of friendship and not something else. It wasn't like she was going to stop him either way.

"I'm really happy you're here, Miss Lizzy." he whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Lizzy's smile widened. "Me, too."

This would've been the moment to launch into that impending discussion, if it weren't for Clara standing several feet away, staring at them quizzically.

"You know, there's this party on the pier that The Glass Onion is sponsoring tomorrow night…"

"Really? It's about time they did something cool like that."

"Yeah," Paul agreed, keeping his arms hooked around Lizzy, "Clara and I are going, and I want you to come, too, if you can. I know you aren't in town long, and you probably want to spend time with Charlie and Maggie, but—"

"I'm sure they'll understand." Lizzy grinned, loving that he'd said he'd _wanted_ her to come instead of asking her if she would like to come along. It was more of a command rather than an inquiry, and Lizzy couldn't help but feel more hopeful about their relationship because of it.

"Great." Stealing a discreet glance at Clara, who was lying on her towel in the blinding sun with her eyes closed, Paul gave Lizzy a quick peck on the cheek before moving to talk to his girlfriend. This unexpected action left poor Lizzy confused, yet secretly overjoyed. She couldn't really figure out what was going on.

But…why did Paul have to make things so difficult?

* * *

The following night, Lizzy found herself sliding into the backseat of Paul's car, dressed in a simple but beautiful royal blue dress and matching flip flops. The color was especially vibrant, helping to bring out the color of Lizzy's eyes with the makeup she'd applied as well. She was relieved that the Harrisons had allowed her to go to this party, since this was her last night in Florida before she left the next morning. However, they'd been pretty okay with it, knowing that Lizzy and Paul were close; besides, they'd spent the entire day together hanging around the house and going window shopping in town.

Unfortunately for her, Clara looked stunning in a low-cut red dress, her blonde hair down and curled similar to how Lizzy had hers. But to Lizzy, Clara seemed to pull off the whole thing better. It was disappointing, since Lizzy had spent a good hour and half getting ready for this party. It amazed her how Paul had even gone out with her at one point, now that he had the supermodel-esque Clara. When they stepped out of the car and started walking to the pier, Lizzy began regretting her decision to come. It was a terrible idea, because she felt like the awkward, unwanted third wheel again, despite the fact that Paul had wanted her to accompany them.

The three of them mingled and snacked on the refreshments that had been provided by The Glass Onion, and Lizzy and Paul were able to catch up with some of their few friends from school or their days of attending the club. Paul revealed that he hadn't taken Clara to The Glass Onion because it wasn't her kind of scene. This made Lizzy wonder, again, why he'd choose a girl like Clara, since she was so different from Lizzy.

Or, maybe that had been the point.

It was wishful thinking, but maybe be wanted someone completely different because his feelings for her hadn't entirely disappeared even though he was with Clara. Maybe he couldn't deal with someone who was like Lizzy; it would bother him too much, and it would seem like a replacement of sorts, which he most definitely did not want. What he got, on the other hand, was Clara the Rebound Girl, who was as far from Lizzy as one could possibly be. This line of thinking made sense in Lizzy's mind, and it made her feel a little better—although not_ that_ much better—about herself.

Her thoughts and this thing with Clara was making her dizzy again. She didn't know how much longer she could take it.

They danced for a bit, until they slowed the music down for the couples. Lizzy stood off to the side while Paul led Clara to the dance floor on the pier, which was surrounded by multicolored lights. Once the song began, Clara wrapped her arms around Paul's neck and got as close to him as she could possibly manage. Paul was clearly all right with this, it seemed.

_If you wear red tonight,  
Remember what I said tonight,  
For red is the color my baby wore,  
And what's more, it's true,  
Yes it is._

Lizzy didn't notice it—her gaze was purposely everywhere except on Paul and Clara—but Paul's eyes drifted over to her every so often, feeling guilty. He was with Clara, but it upset him to see his best friend looking so dejected.

_Scarlet were the clothes she wore,  
Ev'rybody knows I'm sure,  
I would remember all the things we planned,  
Understand it's true,  
Yes, it's true,  
Yes it is._

_I could be happy with you by my side,  
If I could forget her,  
But it's my pride,  
Yes it is, yes it is._

The song somehow mirrored Paul's thoughts and emotions—the ones he had been fighting with ever since Lizzy had shown up in his apartment yesterday. Sure, he was mad that Lizzy had left him behind for her new life in New York, and that she had totally overlooked his own lingering feelings for her, but he couldn't push aside the fact that those feelings were still nagging at the back of his mind. He was so torn between everything that he didn't quite know what to do or think.

_Please don't wear red tonight,  
This is what I said tonight,  
For red is the color that will make me blue,  
In spite of you it's true,  
Yes it is, it's true,  
Yes it is._

_I could be happy with you by my side,  
If I could forget her,  
But it's my pride,  
Yes it is, yes it is._

He peered over Clara's shoulder to study his best friend and former girlfriend, realizing how attractive she looked in that blue dress, which made her brilliant blue eyes stand out above everything else. He always loved those blue eyes of hers, remembering when he would often get lost in them. Lizzy would catch him staring, and the two of them would end up blushing horribly. But then they would have a laughing fit afterward, and any embarrassment would quickly disappear.

Those blue eyes…_Lizzy's_ blue eyes…They reminded him of the beach, and lying together on the sand under cloudless blue skies, and times of innocence and their unwavering friendship. Of their love. How could he get angry staring into them like that? No matter how frustrated she'd made him, he couldn't stay mad at her. He just…_couldn't_. And he hated that those blue eyes looked so heartbroken…

_Please don't wear red tonight,  
This is what I said tonight,  
For red is the color that will make me blue,  
In spite of you it's true,  
Yes it is, it's true._

The song ended with him and Clara sharing a kiss, which he didn't put as much effort into as Clara might've liked. She clung to him, nonetheless, in a fashion that she'd perfected since they'd started going out. It didn't bother him that much, but it did feel like Clara was intent on doing it just so the world knew that he was hers. Or, more correctly, that_ Lizzy _knew he was hers. That irritated him more, and he didn't know why.

The DJ announced that he would be playing another slow song, and it would be the final song of the night. This was Paul's last chance to ask Lizzy. He gently untangled himself from Clara (which pissed her off a little) while they made their way over to his best friend. She appeared to brighten up once she saw him; that made Paul happier.

He smiled, extending a hand out to her. "Would you like to dance?" he asked.

Lizzy took Paul's hand, secretly assessing Clara's behavior out of the corner of her eye. She seemed a bit unhappy about this, but that wasn't going to stop her from taking the offer.

"Of course."

Paul guided Lizzy onto the dance floor and they stood in the center. Lizzy placed one hand on one of his shoulders, and he rested one hand on her hip, while their free hands were clasped together. Lizzy didn't think it was appropriate to hang all over him or get too close, what with Clara standing there watching them. Unlike her, Lizzy had some sense of decency. Nonetheless, being with Paul like this stirred up her feelings again, and she wanted nothing more than to rest her head on his shoulder and sway back and forth, hoping to stay like that for as long as she could.

_Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away  
Now it looks as though they're here to stay  
Oh, I believe in yesterday_

_Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be  
There's a shadow hanging over me.  
Oh, I yesterday came suddenly_

Strangely, Paul didn't know what to say to her. He wanted to tell her what had been on his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Meanwhile, Lizzy was trying to come up with a way to start that conversation she'd had planned for the beach, knowing that they were far enough away from Clara that she wouldn't be able to hear what they were discussing. But, she found herself at a loss for words, caught up in her emotions and the song they were dancing to.

Their eyes locked for a few moments, and the familiar blush crept onto their cheeks, but they didn't tear their gaze from each other.

Lizzy laughed. "I miss this." She'd said it before she realized what she was actually saying; the words carried a lot of meaning. It didn't get past Paul, who inwardly breathed a sigh of relief that she'd finally said _something_.

But he couldn't get his voice working properly enough to respond. Did she mean being here, or seeing him, or being_ with_ him?

_Why she had to go I don't know she wouldn't say  
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday_

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play  
Now I need a place to hide away  
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Lizzy couldn't decode the expression shining in his eyes, but it made her curious. She suddenly steeled herself, deciding to go through with what she'd set out to do, in some sort of roundabout way.

_Why she had to go I don't know she wouldn't say  
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday_

She avoided his eyes for a brief moment, and then looked back up at him. Her heart was beating quickly in her chest, and she was pretty sure that Paul could almost hear it.

"Paul, do you…" she paused, gathering up her courage, "Do you ever think about us…together…again?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. _All the time_, his mind screamed at him.

But that wasn't what his mouth decided to say. Instead, he asked, "What?" like his brain had no idea how to process that specific question.

_Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play  
Now I need a place to hide away  
Oh, I believe in yesterday  
Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm…_

"Nevermind," Lizzy replied, shaking her head and noticing that the song had ended. She'd misread Paul's surprise for an expression that she thought had said, 'Why the hell would you even ask that?!' That's when she knew even bringing it up had been a huge mistake. She looked over at Clara, who clearly looked like she was itching to get her hands on Paul. "Forget I said anything. It was stupid…"

She started to walk away, but Paul grabbed her hand. "Lizzy, wait—"

Lizzy wiggled her hand out of Paul's. "I'm going to go wait in the car."

"Lizzy, please—"

She stopped walking, throwing one last look in Clara's direction and jabbing her thumb at her.

"I think your girlfriend wants you."

She left for the parking lot, leaving Paul even more torn than he was before, thus making the entire situation more complicated.

Where did they stand _now_?


	45. One After 909

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from Across the Universe or the Beatles!**

**A/N: Please blame stupid writer's block and apparent lack of inspiration for my absence, plus my chaotic life. I'm sorry, guys! I'm trying, I really am; I know how much you enjoy this fic! I'm also aware that this chapter is short, but hopefully the next chapter will be much longer. I can't say for sure how many chapters are left until the end, but I**_** think**_** there may be just one or two more. We are nearing the conclusion…**

**P.S. – Tomorrow is 9/9/09! Go out and buy Beatles Rock Band and the re-mastered collection of Beatles CDs!!! I have never been so excited for a game in my entire life; I cannot wait to play! I'm done spazzing, I swear. The title of this update doesn't have really anything to do with what it's about, it's just an obvious reference to tomorrow's date.**

**Please read and review! It's always appreciated!**

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Confusion clouded both Lizzy's and Paul's minds after they went their separate ways again. Not a word was spoken between them in regards to the dance, because neither one was especially eager to bring it up. And when one of them didn't mention it, the other didn't want to be the one to have to do it. In other words, they were at a sort of stalemate.

Lizzy figured asking Paul about their past relationship while he was already with Clara had been a terrible mistake, especially when she'd been _right there_. Maybe it hadn't been the best time to bring it up after all. Maybe some things were left unsaid—except the apology she owed him, which continued to weigh her down. Maybe…just maybe, it was time to move on.

She could apologize to Paul for her selfishness sometime in the future once she felt the time was right to finally have that discussion. For now, she had to finally come to terms with and accept the fact that she forever had Paul's friendship. Nothing would ever change that. He no longer held her heart; therefore, she couldn't go on holding onto his. They only shared the mutual love of two best friends…and that would be enough for her. She could slowly, but surely, learn to live with that, even if a tiny part of her continued to feel a little more. Like they said, one never truly forgot their first love.

Lizzy had finally come to this realization while she was getting her belongings ready for her first semester of college. She'd been quite upset for some time after returning to New York. She hadn't even picked up her sketchbook for several days. But now, going through her new art supplies and notebooks for her classes, she had made up her mind. College was going to be a fresh chapter in her life. She would be experiencing brand new things and relationships, so why not start everything off with a clean slate? Paul would always be there as her closest friend, but it was time to let go of the past and open up to new relationships. Or, if she chose to, avoid romantic relationships for awhile until she got the hang of college. She could never be sure what would happen, but she knew she had to keep living her life. Dwelling on this would hinder that. Lizzy was steadily preparing herself for whatever the future had in store for her, and she couldn't be more excited. For the first time in awhile, she felt good about all of this—and happy.

The same couldn't be said for Paul. In actuality, as he sat at his kitchen table glancing over the list of his college courses, he was quite miserable. Clara was coming over in about a half hour so they could do some last minute supply shopping together. The two of them were going to attend the local community college, and had managed to get into two of the same classes. Clara was majoring in Nursing, while Paul had declared himself "undecided" until further notice.

However, the word "undecided" didn't just describe his major at the moment. Ever since Lizzy left, she had been on his mind a lot. More than she was typically, which was weird, considering he liked Clara very much. Their relationship was stable, and he could honestly say that he and Clara were genuinely happy. He enjoyed spending time with her and getting to know everything he could about her as their connection grew.

But lately, Lizzy had been invading his thoughts. Her last question had kept him up, his mind racing whenever it wasn't preoccupied with something else. If everything around him was silent, or if he was alone, he'd always find himself going back to that damned question and what his mind had shouted at him immediately after she'd asked it.

"_Do you ever think about us…together…again?"_

'All the time.' It was the truth. He'd occasionally come across a picture of himself and Lizzy together, or he'd have a random memory smack him the face out of nowhere, and he thought about it. About _them_; about their romantic relationship and how strong it had been before Lizzy had to move to the city. Maybe it wasn't anything. Maybe he was simply reminiscing. Whatever it was, it kept bothering him to no end. He always felt guilty for pondering these types of things when he knew he had Clara and cared about her greatly. But, they always seemed to creep into his consciousness. Or, unconsciousness, for that matter. He'd dreamed about Lizzy a few times since they'd separated again. It was wrong, he knew. They had gone back to being best friends. It had hurt, but he'd found Clara…and it felt like everything was okay again. He was aware that this needed to stop before it most likely ruined the relationship he had now. He hadn't told Clara that he and Lizzy had been more than friends at one point, but he figured it wasn't important for her to know. Paul had no real reason for not telling her, and he had no idea why he didn't, he just didn't think it was necessary.

Paul had let go of the feelings he had for Lizzy once he and Clara started dating. Now, after seeing her again for the first time in awhile, he was having his doubts. They were still nagging at him somewhat, causing him to feel completely conflicted. That was never a good position for a guy to be in. Was this normal? He still cared about Lizzy; perhaps he was confusing the friendship kind of love for real love? He couldn't exactly tell.

Walking into the kitchen, Paul's mother slid into the chair opposite her son. She could easily see that Paul was in a funky mood. Being a woman and a mother, she hadn't been blind o the predicament Paul had been wrestling with.

"Paulie," she said quietly, "Remember…they always say you never forget your first love. It's okay to feel confused, but do what you feel is right. It's whatever _you_ want, not what Clara might want or what Lizzy wants. Your best bet is to follow your heart."

Paul sighed heavily. "I wish it was that easy."

His mind wasn't the only part of him that was confused—his heart was, too.

Paul's mother reached across the table and patted his hand reassuringly.

"Give it some time," she advised, "You'll figure it out soon enough. You have school to worry about now."

And she was right, as all mothers usually were. For the time being, Paul had to put this issue on the backburner and focus on his studies; more specifically, on what he intended to do with his life, career-wise. He was still undecided; he hoped at least _that _would change.

Above her head, the leaves on the trees had turned from bright green to varying shades of red, orange, yellow, and brown. The foliage was a noticeable sign that they were in the thick of the fall season. There was a slight chill in the air, but the sky was still a vibrant blue with patches of white clouds dotting its expanse. Lizzy didn't mind the weather at all; she enjoyed watching the change in seasons.

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Walking across her college campus, Lizzy had a heavily loaded backpack full of her essentials needed for her classes. In her right hand, she carried her art portfolio, which wasn't nearly as full of work as it would be at the end of the year. She was trying to get her General Education classes out of the way, so she didn't have many classes for her major right now. Despite the annoyance she felt at having to take such courses, Lizzy was adjusting to college life with ease. She'd already survived nearly two months, and after the first couple weeks, she was able to get around campus without the use of a map. Plus, she had made some friends within her major at orientation, and was making friends in her other classes. She'd fallen into a diverse group of people, but everyone pretty much got along great with each other. Between writing a few papers and other homework, she'd hung out with a bunch of her friends already.

At the moment, Lizzy was heading home after sitting through an afternoon of lectures and a drawing class. She didn't have a car yet, so she usually took the bus half the way, and walked the rest. The routine didn't bother her much, but she hated to think how horrible it would be to walk during the winter, which was rapidly approaching. Hopefully, she would have a car by that time. Pausing to adjust her backpack, Lizzy then zipped up her sweatshirt and continued down the long and winding sidewalk that would lead to one of the exits of the campus.

That's when she heard someone shouting her name.

"Lizzy!" the person yelled, "Wait up!"

Lizzy turned around and laughed when she spotted a familiar face running toward her, nearly tripping over his own feet. He was clad in jeans, a T-shirt promoting a band Lizzy hadn't heard of, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. He was also wearing her hat—well, her hat that her father had given to her—on his head, chunks of his auburn hair poking out beneath it. He reached her, completely out breath and panting to take in air. Given his exterior, one would expect him to be tough guy, but he was actually quite a goof ball and somewhat sensitive.

Still giggling, Lizzy asked, "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied, breathing heavily, "I'm…great."

"What am I going to do with you, Lenny?" she asked, rolling her eyes in a playful manner.

"Hey, I just sprinted my ass all the way across campus for you," Lennon, more commonly known as Lenny, pointed out. He tugged the hat off his head, revealing a mess of short, reddish-brown hair that went well with his hazel eyes. Brushing off some invisible dust, he placed it on top of Lizzy's head, deliberately pulling it down over her eyes. She laughed and swatted his hand away, fixing the hat so it sat properly on her head. "You left it in the lecture hall, _genius_."

"Well, _sorry_…" Lizzy countered, matching his cynicism with a smirk.

"You shouldn't forget things that, you know, usually reside on the top of your head," Lenny said matter-of-factly, as he and Lizzy started walking together, "So, the real question here is…what am_ I_ going to do with _you_?"

"Absolutely nothing,"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hmm," he answered with mock-thoughtfulness, "I'm not so sure about that. I _will_ find a way to get back at you. It'll take some evil plotting, but I'm gonna come up with something…just you wait and see. You better watch your back, little girl."

"Oh, I'm so scared, Lenny," Lizzy told him with equally fake enthusiasm.

"You should be," he said. "You never know…" Lennon stopped and let Lizzy keep walking before he ran up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, then tickled her sides. She let out a slightly surprised yelp, followed by a fit of giggles. "See?"

"Okay, _all right_," Lizzy said, her laughter slowly ceasing as his fingers stopped tickling her, "I get it! You _are_ evil."

"It's all a part of my charm,"

"Is _that_ what you call it?"

Lennon smirked and poked Lizzy in the arm before ending their sarcastic banter for the time being. He tugged on Lizzy's art portfolio.

"Here, let me take that,"

Lizzy handed him the portfolio case. "Thanks."

"No problem," he replied. "So, do you need a ride home? And don't give me that 'It's no big deal, my place is out of your way' shit again. I've been offering to take you to school and drop you off since the beginning of the semester, and you've still refused. I hate to see you take the bus and walk, Liz. You know how many creeps and assholes there are in this city?"

"I'm aware. I just feel bad—"

"Well, don't, because you shouldn't. Let me take you home,"

"Fine,"

"Will you carpool with me? It would make a hell of a lot more sense,"

"If you let me pay for gas,"

Lennon smirked. "You're impossible," he stated. "Typically, when you're in a relationship, things like that are, well, _complimentary_."

"I know," Lizzy said. "But I would feel better if you at least let me chip in once and awhile."

Lennon shook his head, giving up. There was no point in arguing with her, he realized. "If it makes you happy, then go for it."

"Thank you," Lizzy replied sweetly. They walked the rest of the way to the parking lot where Lennon had parked his car, and once everyone and everything was inside, they took off toward Lizzy's apartment building, weaving through the heavy New York City traffic. As they sat at an impossibly long red light, Lizzy played with the strawberry pendant she always wore and stared out the window. "So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Heading over to Jersey," he explained. "We're spending the weekend with family there. You know, the usual dysfunctional family gathering thing."

"Sounds like fun,"

"Oh yeah, it'll be a blast," Lennon chuckled cynically. "How 'bout you? It's your first Thanksgiving with your folks, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Lizzy said, smiling, "Which means I'll be able to experience this dysfunctional family get-together you spoke so fondly of. Plus, a friend of mine is coming in from out of town."

"Ah, a Florida friend?"

"You guessed it," Lizzy confirmed. "I was going to invite you, but since you're going to Jersey, I guess dinner at my place will have to wait. I know how much you love it."

"Hey. It's not your dad I have to worry about," Lenny pointed out, "He likes me, for some odd reason. It's your uncle I have to watch out for."

"That's Uncle Max for you," she grinned, as they pulled in front of the door to the apartment building. Lennon was about to get out and grab her things from the backseat, but Lizzy, stubborn as she was, beat him to it. "Thanks for the ride."

"It's no problem, really,"

Lizzy leaned in to give him a kiss before exiting the car. "Have a good Thanksgiving. Call me before you leave for New Jersey?"

"Of course," Lenny promised. "Have a nice holiday. Enjoy the dysfunctional…_fun_."

"I will," Lizzy said. "Should be interesting…"

Lizzy didn't even know the half of it.


	46. I'm Looking Through You

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**A/N: So, first off, I must say that Beatles Rock Band is the best game ever invented. I'm completely in love with it. Second, I'm really sad that we're close to the end of this story. Everyone in the ATU fandom has been so awesome, and I love that you've kept with this fic for such a long time. I love our fandom :) **

**This is a short chapter, but the next one will be longer. I just feel bad for not updating in forever (I had a lot going on, between school, starting a screenplay, and moving), so I wanted to at least give you something to read! Even though it's short, something very important happens. Please review, it would be much appreciated!**

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Paul stared at the Prom picture he'd had tucked away in his wallet, his thumb tracing across the cover that helped to keep it safe. The gentle hum of the plane and the dull conversation of his fellow passengers swirled around him, but he paid no attention to it. His mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts and emotion yet again, and as he continued to gaze, smiling, at the photo of himself and his best friend, he couldn't stop thinking over the disaster he'd created back in Florida.

It had all started when he casually mentioned to Clara that he was going to New York for the Thanksgiving holiday. They had been hanging out at her place while her parents were still at work, and he had just decided to let her know, so that it didn't seem like he'd simply skipped town without telling her first. The reaction he received hadn't exactly been the one he was hoping for.

"_Wait_, you're what?" Clara sat up quickly, moving to the opposite end of the couch and throwing Paul this look of object horror and rage.

"Lizzy invited me to Thanksgiving with her family," Paul repeated. "It's the first one they've had together since she was adopted, and I wanted to—"

She cut him off. "I'm so sick of this!"

"Sick of _what_, Clara?" Suddenly he was glaring right back at her.

"You…bringing up this girl non-stop," she stated, "and playing the adoption card. People get adopted and reunite all the time!"

Paul merely gawked, not believing what he was hearing out of her. "This is different. You don't understand how important this is."

"To _who_, Paul?" she challenged. Clara stood and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. "To her or to _you_? Because I feel like this is about something more than just dinner."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Clara avoided him, looking the other way with some degree of defiance. "Nothing," she responded quietly, after a moment. "But you already said you were spending Thanksgiving here, with me. Remember?"

Paul sat there racking his brain. He vaguely recalled her asking him, but it seemed like forever ago. He was honestly a little more than sketchy on the details.

"No," he replied, getting to his feet. "Look, I'm sorry, Clara. I already gave my answer to Lizzy, and she's expecting me to be there."

Clara looked as though she was about to cry, which made Paul feel somewhat guilty. "And you don't think I wasn't expecting the same?"

"I'm sorry," Paul said again. The words sounded forced and desperate—anything to stop her from breaking into tears. He didn't think that he could handle that. "I haven't seen her since the summer break…and…" He trailed off, attempting to place a comforting hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off and continued to purposefully not look at him. How could one conversation make a person feel so shitty? "I should've cleared it with you first. I'm sorry."

_I'm sorry._ He sounded like a broken, useless record. This wasn't doing anything whatsoever. He'd gotten to the point where one simple phrase had lost all of its genuine meaning, and had moved on only to fill the silence and cut the unbearable tension that stood between them.

"I'll make it up to you," he offered. "Dinner, with you and your parents when I get back. My treat."

Clara sniffled, wiping away tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks. "That's not the point!" She threw her hands up in surrender, walking away from him so that her back was turned. "Like I said, it's about something more than having dinner with someone. I know this girl is your friend, but we're _together_. And every time you bring her up…"

Paul stood wordlessly, waiting for her to continue.

"I try not to be bothered by it, I really do. But right now, I can't take it. Every time you bring her up, it makes me wonder."

"Clara—"

"No, let me finish," she answered evenly, turning on her heel to face him. Her cheeks were red and splotchy, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "Because you obviously think I don't notice these things, but I do. That look on your face when you say her name, or…or when you're_ thinking_ about her. I know it's not me you're thinking of."

"Clara, please—"

"Don't play dumb with me, I'm tired of it," she sighed. "Ever since she came here over the summer, I've been competing with her. You say you're best friends, but I sincerely doubt that now. You may have been oblivious most of the time while she was here, but I saw her looking at you, so please, Paul, don't lie to me anymore."

Paul collapsed onto the couch with a defeated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. "Okay. It _is_ true that we've been friends since we were kids; I wasn't lying when I told you that. But…we _did_ date for awhile, until she decided to move to New York to be with her family and go to school. We knew the long distance thing wasn't going to work out for us, so we broke up and decided to stay friends."

"I can see that's working out well," Clara muttered cynically. "You know what? I'm not even pissed about the fact that you dated her as much as I thought I would be. What hurts is that you clearly haven't gotten over her."

Paul didn't have anything to say for himself, because he knew that Clara was absolutely right. It just took someone else—at a price—to admit it out loud for him to finally get it through his thick skull. He wished it hadn't come out like this, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

"I'm just some girl that you settled for, right?"

"I like you," Paul affirmed.

"But I'll never be her," she finished, knowing that there was more to that sentence. Sure, Paul probably liked her on some level, but it wasn't enough to sustain a relationship. "You and I both know we can't continue seeing each other if that's how you feel. I won't settle for being some…_rebound_ girl. I'll be holding you back. So, go, Paul. Run off to the Big Apple and take back your little artist, just like I know you've been planning to do ever since she made you the offer."

Paul got up once more from where he had been sitting, following her on her determined, furious trek to the front door. She held it open for him, leaning on it like it was there to help her from breaking into a million little pieces. He felt extremely horrible for making her feel this way, and he didn't know if he could find the right words to make it better.

"I…I'm sorry it had to end like this," Paul told her, inwardly hating the 'I'm sorry' as soon as it left his mouth, "There's someone out there for you, Clara. It may not be me, but there_ is_ some guy who will treat you right. Now you can run off and find him."

"Goodbye, Paul."

There was a trace of a smile tugging at her lips, but it was gone once she shut the door in his face. And that was the end of that.

Now, he was seated on a plane that was ready to touch down in the City That Never Slept, to spend the holiday with the one person who knew him better than he knew himself. He had been slightly sad to see things end with Clara, but in the long run, it had been for the best. They weren't right for each other—Clara was correct in stating that they were simply holding each other back.

Paul could see the towering skyscrapers of New York City below the plane as they drew nearer to their destination. His stomach was anxious, but everything about this felt right. This was exactly where he was supposed to be; it took months of separation and a failed relationship to figure that out. He was here, on his way to be with Lizzy, and he wasn't leaving again until they both came to their senses. Long distance or not, the universe had declared that they didn't belong to anyone else but each other.


End file.
